Redsand Canyon Voithó

The man did not understand her native tongue, but he was able to ascertain that she was ready. The smile did not fade from his features. He was pleased to have found such pleasurable company within Mereo. Before he had left the mesa, Arsenio had wondered if the Roman would be his only friend. The canyon had opened his eyes, though. There were others who were worth his time, worth his honesty. The Imperator had gathered a good group beneath him.

Arsenio moved into a prowl. His head was kept low, protective of his throat. The roll of his muscles was a practiced one.

When the mercenary darted toward Aquene, his teeth aimed for her cheek. He would hope that she would try to pull free from the strike and leave her neck open. If this was the case, he would greedily latch on with the softest pinch – just enough to draw a yelp.