Neverwinter Forest and I know that when the flood comes, honey,

He did not mind being bitten. It had almost always been a source of pain in the past, but hadn't every touch? These bites were kinder than most. The scrapes and punctures scabbed over within hours, and then they were only reminders that he had been close to her and come away without anything worse.

He liked when she was lost in thought; when she forgot to moderate herself and, instead of dealing more pain, seemed almost to gentle. It drew him down toward her in a mockery of a collapse as he pretended not to be careful of her broken foreleg.

"Assassins do," he replied, flattening himself over her. He wanted to feel her teeth on his face again. Maybe, if he kept talking, she would forget to make him bleed for it. "Assassins with broken legs. We should move deeper into the forest."

The idea did not please him, but he was intent on hiding her away.