Black Morass glowbell [m]

Kynareth’s stunned by the beauty of the young woman he’d had in his grasp — still has in his grasp for a while longer. As they part he watches her with heavy eyes and a content, but sly smile on his lips. Despite what they did, she looks back to him coyly and he can’t help but chuckle at her words. 

He moves to walk beside her. “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.” He purrs, intentionally bumping against her. Unable to help himself as he noses against her jaw and ear a bit, the hint of teeth nipping at her scruff. 

Only a while later, they make it to the northern border of the Strath. He stops when he senses his scent on the borders fading. Slinking towards her with that handsome smile on his face he playfully nips at her neck and moves back with a wink.

“Come back anytime, peaches.” He hums with easy humor. “Tread carefully though.” He warns easily, no real heat in his tone.