Cricket Creek Bog pomegranate

“Ah see,” Njord hummed, amused by Apollyon’s bulletproof confidence. The young, virile buck was simply hunting for a pretty tail. No strings attached.

“You may want tae visit a pack up the coast, named Sapphique. Plenty of seafaring women there,” he mused, veiling the scorn he felt. Apollyon would just be their type, he thought bitterly.

“Or, if ye dinnae prefer tha sea, Ah hear tha land for Akashingo has pleasure caves,” he added.