Lion Head Mesa [sc] eighty-second

no worries at all! and they're never shrimpy! <3

"my stature! you forget i was lower than you, machiavelli!" but all in sweetened jest, honeywine upon a tongue pierced through by pleasure. "i could do worse with you as a nightmare," senmut admitted with a boldness of which he would not have evinced even a breath were it not for this drink.

senmut tried to laugh now, but was suddenly sick in the matting atop the mesa; he moaned and laughed, and the glittering in his blood seemed to fiercely rush, and then ebb.

he wiped his mouth; he lay back sheepishly and shut his eyes. 

"i am afraid i must ask you for water, machi, and for you to quit my presence. for your own good, of course, and nothing to do with my humiliation."

a faint smile touched mothwing amusement to those sallow lips. "thank you for remaining with me through my blabbering."