Hoshor Plains fayetteville gets hot in the summer

the truth is revealed, insinuations and what he reads into the questions, are made clear. badlands considers with a twitch of his ear, chin lifting slightly as he regards her: not in disinterest. he is plenty interested; at least physically. the logical part of his brain argues that they are strangers, making wed vows without even knowing one another's names was ... crazy.

but not any more crazy than what has befallen him in the past few weeks.

and what was the harm in a marriage of convenience?

from him, she could have what she desired and from her, he would take companionship. anything to make him less lonely. to fill that void he feels like an aching, gnawing hunger. she would give him purpose.

it may not last, but perhaps it would. even marriages made of love weren't a certainty.

he draws nearer, drinking in her scent, in the scents of others. i will, agrees badlands; knowing that he should shed that name. whether it was truly his or not. perhaps fitting, it would not suit here. did not suit the man he wished to be, nor the life he wished to build. true or not, badlands had been stolen from the sneering coyotes cloyed around him at ground zero.

but it was not the last thing he would steal from them. i am arktos. he does not know it's meaning, of course; a word, a name, a sound. one that he had liked. that had tucked itself away, waiting for this moment.