Northstar Vale & prayer-pale stars that pass the drowsing-incensed hymns (mtr.)

Hours;
tundrian’s tonttu had slept for hours, and hours more; for a day-and-half  after the initiation  (or no?)  of the bloodlet-eyed gnome. Her rook had roused her, then, and was it not her who must ruffle his feathers? Rather than tend to her as he ought, he would
dismiss her!
to further his interests with their then-gawkish audience. Indignation! Andraste had flushed with the balefire of it; had looked upon the warlord preying, promising that he had made his choice; that she would pillage him and plead nevermore. The culmination of this insatiable ravening began in the early eve with the fairylight glimmering upon her shivering spring ribs; faded fury that had befallen o’er shoulders arched; soft sighs, shorn cheek to stone. Breast found shale; heartbeats soon tucked themselves into heavied pants; rawboned hips tugged taut and made to tender; several minutes, fathomless and several minutes more;
and woke to her belly strewn along the limestone of her Rest that pearlmade claws clutched at; breath bellowing from strained chords to warm tearful lashes. Quivering, quivering; melted porcelain figure and petal-soft thighs.

“How many times did I cry for you?”
Tones raw, nigh ravished; could not yet look upon him as @Melkor most certainly had let himself glut upon the vision that had been her.

Andraste had fallen victim to her own vow and left to ache around nothing.