Haunted Wood I babble on until my voice is gone

Valour settled down before long, his soft downy fur draping over the prince and surrounding him in a wash of orange and white. Clay murmured a hum at that, nestling into the fur and inhaling the scent before ultimately deciding he liked it here.

Much better than laying alone.

He felt safe. Connected. Almost like home.

"Yes. I did," he confirmed at the mention of the bed before rolling onto his back, his paws flicking in the air and softly tussling with the side of Valour's face. Nails gently scraping along with the male's cheek fur before tugging—Caressing it. "I do own you, though," he chuckled. Clay knew what power he possed over the male. The desire had not gone unseen by the Emperian. Valour's moods were dependant on him when he was around.

With any word he could encourage the man to feel any sort of way he wanted.

"You're mine, remember?" he reminded, lifting his paw and pulling Valour's face to look at him. He didn't like that the Warlord was looking away.