Deepwood Weald rising

They made a winning combination, Belharra observed. For one, she was dead funny - and for two, Asmodeus deflected her humor artfully and with his own brand of wit. She grinned, imagining what might have befallen her poor comrade if the golden harlot had descended upon him unawares. She forgot, of course, that not much would have happened without him being a willing participant.

Okay, so she had just described being a brilliant cock-block. You're welcome, Azzy. Really, what would he have done without her around, lost his poor paw AND gotten charmed by a gilded succubus? It was for the best she'd intervened.

"Oh, ye talk a lot." Belharra noddled sagely, crossing one paw in front of the other with a serious look about her. "Summat about, 'Belharra no' -- 'Belly I love ye,', 'Oh Belly, make me a man' --" She grinned widely, totally unabashed. "Ye's obsessed. Can't say I blame ye."