Hoshor Plains [m]y blood is a flood of rubies

arktos is summoned by a fevered voice, a little unusual to him, piquing his curiosity until he drew nearer. the sound of her voice echoing in the compass of his mind fades and he follows the pheromones making him nose blind to everything else.

right to his wife.

it's a familiar scent to him, heaven and hell sent and he is relieved that it is nephele this time.

incoherent thought, the ability to form words has run as dry as his tongue suddenly felt; so he settles for a rumbling croon; denying himself touch until she has granted him her permission.