Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

At first it seemed as though his touch afeared her, for though she did not pull away she trembled. He thought he might have been too brazen to reach out and touch, that she did not want this (he did not blame her; he was not even sure why he wanted it). Yet he lingered for just a moment longer, a few seconds. He decided to pull away but before his body followed up on what his mind decided he felt her teeth preening at the hairs in his neck. A feeling that was more pleasant then he may have wished to admit; a feeling he thought he could not achieve; a feeling that reminded him of his nights with Damien, before...

He pulled his mind away from the memories of Damien to return to the now once more. This was all that mattered. His life had been strange and unruly of late but this was something that was real, and where the philosopher's mind usually enjoyed to drift off into could-be's and why's and shied away from touch he now craved for the realness of this. He sought her ear and nibbled gently along its rim, nipping at it encouragingly and savouring feeling so.. alive.