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It was practically instantaneous.
Deep in the twisted forest of thorns, a pink mist fell from the sky, from the heavens. Before they could react, the baleful mist fell onto the Beast King, Kirinmaru, and onto the priestess of the Sacred Jewel, Midoriko.
They didn't understand how or why it happened, only that there was no escaping it. The miasma brushed past her raven-black hair and even through his armor.
Before they knew it, like flames from the depths of hell, a strange and aching heat overtook them.
Midoriko fell to her knees, her body warm all over, opening her robes, and Kirinmaru knelt before her, his form shaking and his excitement all the more evident.
"My king, please," Midoriko panted, her hands on his chest, pushing down his armor, tossing it to the side, and helping him disrobe.
Kirinmaru didn't stop her, and he put his hands on her shoulder, pulling her closer to him, his mouth on her bare neck. Midoriko gasped softly, his touch leaving her shaking, and she wanted more.
"Please, take me."
"As you wish, my lady." Kirinmaru replied, practically growling, his voice deep with desire, which made Midoriko positively shiver.
He snaked an arm around her waist, as he quickly unsheathed himself, and she gladly wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt his bare length prod against her, just as he felt her pleasant wetness from her aching core.
He moved on top of her, her back on the soft forest floor, and he thrust himself inside her, and she gasped aloud once more, feeling so full, her hands digging into his broad shoulders.
Midoriko did not hold her back her moans of pleasure, while Kirinmaru grunted and growled as he claimed her as his own.
She was his, and he was hers.
They became one, desire and lust alive from the miasma, and where the bones of previous fallen warriors lay strewn upon the desolate ground.