Neverwinter Forest Some would sing and some would scream

just for you.

being around his elska had already begun to unravel his common tongue. from the conjunctions she used, he could get a better scope on how to communicate. it was stigmatized in vetrfjörðr to only speak their natal tongue, but that's what set aside the red fury. he wanted to know, he wanted to learn.

it was his turn to groom the soft textures of her fur. she was like silk beneath him, whereas he was rugged nylon. his tongue slipped easily over the follicles, detaching any loose dirt— though she was quite clean as is— that may have stuck.

selfishly, he was marking her. with the saliva from his jowls, he'd be apart of her. she would be apart of him. their scents would mesh, creating a layer over this territory for them.

then she spoke his name like a prayer. he pulled his head back, looking down at her hooded gaze. you will make good seiðkona.