Ravensblood Forest it is the stones for altars

wanna fade? :big eyes emoji:

He allowed Wintersbane’s information to settled within him, situating itself in the more lax places of his mind so he may draw them out in rumination later. As for his mind, he couldn’t help but return back to the previous assumption of the debt being impregnation; the tug of his lips fully waned, a slash of moon-white fangs as a low, rasping belly-laugh shone from between them.

”Oh, I have no doubt that it has happened before. You flatter me, mi señor! Regardless of the season, I have yet to feel the touch of a female,” still chuckling to himself, he opened gleaming eyes to peer unabashed at the mauve male. ”Mm, it is better to wait until this heat fades. Getting burned does not suit me, as much as I adore a simmering embrace.”

Gods, he missed sex. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been draped over—or under—another. It’d had to have been several weeks’ time, at least; the closest he’d gotten had been with the Diasporian general, and snarled at how, more often than not, Stigmata’d been right.

For a moment, he considered the male of gloom-and-gloam before him with a slow blink. There was an appreciative glint in Vonn’s eye, but... no. As much as he flaunted the concept of lying many kings, he knew it might as well give him a lain throat when he’d only just struck a bargain. In the meantime...

”Good, good. As it stands, I will also be aware of any word of this... lovely Rakk you have brought to my attention. Otherwise,” with a courtly nod and an extravagant flair of his plumey tail, Vonn grinned with newfound amiability as he drifted along the route that Wintersbane had emerged from, ”I will chance upon the Taiga, lest my jewels drop from frostbite. Winds guide you, my friend!”