Hoshor Plains Walk the room like you're on fire [m]

glacial gaze watches her closely; curiously. he doesn't plead, doesn't pressure. he stands immobile; like a statue of ares. muscles tense and taunt. living upon the breadth of hope. he shouldn't, some small part of him hisses. how many bastards will he have roaming these wilds come summer? probably more than he wanted to admit. but he has been denied the pleasure of watching his own children grow so he will take what he is offered; one night stands and the knowledge that the likelihood of meeting his offspring might be slim. he accepts it.

she invites him and wintersbane does not resist as the stone chips away and he is mortal man once more, striding towards her with want burning like hunger in his loins. he nips once, teasingly, at the junction of her spine and tail and collects her into his arms, bodies melding together.

fade to black