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

andrase slept for hours — half a day, maybe. he moves to stretch his legs and because he has never been an idle beast. he sleeps for a bit himself, though, unintentionally falling into the lull of slumber and awakening at the sound of his name. at first, it rouses him sleepily at her side and he peeks at her to realize she is talking in her sleep. thinking nothing more of it in the moment he rests his chin against his paws and lets his eyes drift closed.

sleep does not come to steal him away though; for soon the fey queen is quaking and quivering at his side, breaths drawing laborously and his name falling from betwixt her lips over and over again.

melkor, melkor, melkor

a sensual chorus that has a bemused ( if not a bit smug ) smile tugging at the edges of his lips as he watches her. to be causing such reactions, such a fuss in the fantasies of her dreams ...it stokes his ego. she awakens soon; his ears cup forth to hear her question. ❝at least three since i woke up. i don't know how many more before that.❞ he responds candidly, tempering his amusement. 

❝did you have a good dream?❞ he asks pleasantly, thinking that if his phantom self of her dreams could do that to her that it was a damn good dream. still, melkor can't seem to help but tease her about it all the same.