Dahozhoni Meadow blood and wine

With the Akashingo traveling party! This is meant to be set tomorrow morning!

Akhtar wasn’t much a man for pretty things, but he did quite like this. A meadow, pretty and pungent, the scent of flowers wreathing through his nose. The saluki paid no mind to whoever was watching, his nose lowered to take great, huffing breaths of the flowers. 

They didn’t clear his muddled head, a night of silent nightmares making his frame shake. He couldn’t help it, memories returning to him from the dark lake where he had drowned them so long ago. It wasn’t fair. But when was it ever fair to him?

After a moment, he shucked off his black rabbit’s pelt, and turned over on his back to roll in the flowers. Allow a priest a moment’s pleasure, he begged the sky, before letting his eyes fall closed.