The Heartwood Will you tear my skin?

Dreven lifted brutish head at his admission, and smirked.

Not yet. Hmm.

He left it off at that. Not wanting to finish the thought, but leaving just enough of a thought to tease. Yes that was the way to do this thing. Especially given, he wasn't certain how his leader was with others yet. He may not play well even with those he held a bit of esteem for.


Dreven's red gems grew wide at the beauty that unfolded beneath them. He took a deep breath and smelled clean air, flowers, trees, and a dusting of rock. It was simply breathtaking, even for him. The scarred beast. The Consort, the warrior. He bent down to sniff at the moss at his feet, a glimmer of laughter in his face, when his leader spoke.

It happens on occasion.

He settled to his haunches and then further down, down, sphinxlike body stretching long limbs across the moss with a sigh of contentment and a soft burr in the back of his throat.