Dragoncrest Cliffs i’m brimming over,

Oh. He didn't catch the nerves in her whisper, only the way it lifted the hairs along his spine. He pressed his full length against her, curving around her like a dark sickle, planting soft but insistent kisses along the graceful arc of her neck. Mmm, she tasted sweet, as if someone were to squeeze the moon out into a pool and bathe her in its liquid light. The moon, and the stars. . .

And then she spoke, and things became suddenly different. He felt exhaustion pulling at his lids as well, warring with arousal, and he sighed, fighting--failing--against sleep himself.

It's all right, Vercingetorix whispered, sensing the darkness crashing in around them and losing himself to it. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow. Hosh daun, bounkola. Sleep. His words became more and more slurred as he went on, the Trigedasleng barely audible against her downy pelt.