Blacktail Deer Plateau i have burned & burned

gleipnir rumbles his pleasure at every feverish nip she leaves against his flesh. thanking the gods with every touch that she is real and not the pale imitations of her visage that haunted his dreams. he has not done her justice; he realizes.

more startling than anything is the realization that with her the ache, the insistent need to search is gone. she feels like home.

ég hef saknað þín. the wardog admits in his native tongue curious as to whether she'd understand or not. as far as his attempts to learn common went he had ceased using and caring about learning it further in her absence and finds himself, predictably, back at square one.