Luneshale Pass lluvia

the accusation scarcely leaves niño’s mouth and soto is upon him, attempting to wedge his teeth to the boy’s throat. his lips curl back to reveal teeth worn by years of disabuse. if niño forgets his place, a well-aimed fang is here to crudely remind him. 

he would wait; if niño relented, it would be a rough cuff to an ear and nothing more. 

but if he fought back, well — juárez gathered his pleasure from fucking; soto enjoyed piercing bodies in a different way, and it’s been far too long since he sunk something of his into quivering flesh. 

besides that, the accusation remains untrue. Juárez intended to share among them, but soto’s yet to taste the communal whore. ¿piensas eso? he throws a half-laugh into their battle grounds, spitting. al puta le falta una pata. disfigured things are beneath soto — his palate consisting of an altogether far more unsavory nature.