Gyrfalcon's Keep cause if the fires don't burn it down.

Dreven had woken in the early hours with wild eyes and a heart in his throat. He had been mindful not to wake his wife and instead had slowly untangled himself from around her. Pulling a pelt over top of her and tucking a rabbit nearby for her breakfast he left the den they shared.

There was a nervous energy to his patrol. A tightening in the stomach of the beast. A fear that all would come undone and he pushed at it and prodded at it, until it stung and twisted and he felt sick. But that was the only way he knew to get used to it. That was how you got used to things you endured, you pressed, until it was raw and aching and then you pushed past the pain. Once you got to the point that it was so sore that you fell numb to it. That was when you no longer let it bother you.

Was this wrong way to think? Absolutely, but it was the only way the former slave knew how to deal. It was why he was so incredibly sexual. He had learned early on that it was gonna happen anyway, so if you sought it out, if you pressed and pushed at it. Eventually you learned to like it and then it didn't hurt anymore.

Large brown paws tore up the ground as he walked along the borders like a mad man. Burning red eyes out into the darkness, searing through the shadows. They cut like a knife through the early morning shades.