Duskfire Glacier [m] good taste is for people who can't afford sapphires

surely, wintersbane thinks as he peers up from his patrol along the trees of the glacier's woodlands, if gods existed, they adored torturing him. he had never been religious — unless one was counting his second time in blackfeather woods when he'd taken to the dark woods' gods with a passion inspired by the passion that relmyna had breathed to life within him. but it has been so long since he'd thought of them — of mephala that they had become more like a phase instead of a way of life.

but ...that wasn't true was it?

did the night mother not use sex to her advantage? 

did he not give into temptation year after year, possibly siring but never actually fathering —

he realizes, abruptly, what has guided these thoughts as lane emerges from the trees; a ghosting siren seeking his path. he recognizes the scent that wafts from her and reacts upon instinct alone as he turns to face her. a soft rumble passes betwixt his lips — a crooning greeting.