Haunted Wood who's the latest on his throne

Rokig was mildly satisfied with the cry she released, followed by an admission of defeat. He stood up from his place on the ground as he shook out his already messy coat. His silver gaze seemed a touch peaceful despite the dull aches that buzzed randomly throughout his body. He had needed this more than he thought. Although he cold not deny the underlying desire for more. She was obviously done though.

Has it been looked at properly yet? He asked carefully as he gazed upon the wound that claimed her neck.