Gyrfalcon's Keep Moldovite

good! good! rusalka booms between chuckles as his son nips at his jawline. like a true saltson. the praise leaves his lips, though brings with it a small twist in his gut; remembering what he had to go through to be a true cairn in his father's eyes.

a small shudder slithers down his spine but he closes those memories off swiftly; slamming the door in their face and hoping he captured fingers in the seam of the door to keep them from returning.

his sons and daughters would never have to endure the drop.

what'dya say we take a break and get a little snack? offers rusalka after a while longer. i don't know about you, bruiser, but i'm a little hungry.