Mount Apikuni ii: bugs, underfoot

He fit the bill.  There was less rape in his story although in his younger days, there were lines that were hazy and blurred where the hands of coercion and manipulation were concerned — on both ends.  But sex?  Plenty.

He had gotten around more in these previous nights than he had since the incident of which he refused to think about, let alone speak of.  But these soft, wanting women were drawing something ugly and old as time from the pits of his bile-black despair.

He found her traveling up the mountain as he was scaling down, @Quail left somewhere behind.  In the dark there his gold eyes sought after the green of hers and he noticed something about her that was strangely familiar.

They were crafted similarly; the same wide mouths, the same eerie eyes.  The same otherworldly presence.  It was enough to draw him to a halt, although otherwise he did not regard her.