Black Morass ii. youngblood

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: horny loser

vague but he is presumed to have joined 

the dark brute stalks the fresh new kingdom in the swamp. not to learn the terrain, or hunt. but to find the fabled women the old man had spoken of. his legs trudged through the moist land with conviction. but why wouldn't he? theissor had earned at least.. a week's worth of nights with, maybe, 6 women. all fighting for his attention with the ferocity of vipers. leaning over the waters edge to quench thirst, he would close his eyes and fantasize of such a day.

another man.

this one is not kovictus, though. even if he was just as imposingly large. no. giant, a behemoth. he is the inverse of her in all ways. with his height and with his coloring. warm and dark with only pale lighter marks brushed upon him. he is handsome, of course, but she thinks that is not a question of the men gathering here.

he is at the edge of the water and she lingers down the shore. like a doe, she is perfectly still and knowing she might be captured so easily. yet was she like a doe if she wished for it? if she allowed it?

like moth to a flame.
why did he even go looking? he probably could've stood at the center and wait to be surrounded if he so wanted.

he rose to meet a pale face. bright golden doe eyes. small and round — for a moment he believed her to have already been claimed. the instinct to bare fangs and chase her off was held back long enough for reason to return to him. she was just heavyset, he didn't see any other signs of a brood. theissor settled back into his skin and spoke first.

theissor. he towered over her, carefully closing the distance as if stalking prey. but even from the respectful distance between them, a scent of the purest and sweetest of honey flowed from her and spun his mind. what is your name, sweet thing?

"you will be mother, too,"

she thinks of the confidence and warmth that @Ione controls so seamlessly. genevieve knows she is not yet at that height of certainty with herself and yet —

her gaze is half-lidded for a moment. she looked at him sidelong as if pretending she had not gazed at him for moments before. some men like demure, some men like bold.

genevieve, her smile is sincere at least. you must be new. i feel as though i'd know if you had been here.

she seems two sandwiches short of a picnic. the way her eyes remain half-lidded, tempered and gentle. perhaps what he should've been expected of a handmaiden, if kovictus is to be believed. he'd hoped for just a little more excitement — feist in her. but he will take her anyways, his first but not his last woman. she was pretty, that was enough.

i'm new, yes. i'll be your praetor his chest puffs. and you? one of the reverend mother's pupils? or the reverend mother herself. hopefully, not the latter. at least not in his boss' domain.