Neverwinter Forest arrival

primal and untamed, towering in the quiet intimacy of their den. the wear of his journey clung to him—bloodied fur, marred flesh, and the hollow socket where his eye had once been. but his presence carried something undeniable: victory. claim. her scent wrapped around him as she buried herself into him, her silence as steady as the earth beneath their paws.

his. his wife. his woman.

he pressed his nose into her fur, inhaling her warmth as though it was the only thing that could soothe the storm within. then, with the weight of a conqueror, he stepped back just far enough to gesture toward the outside. his heavy breath carried the unspoken tale of his triumphs: the cache of foxes, their pure pelts pristine in the cold. the otters, seven strong, strung together by his own labor. the lynxes, their fierce grace now lifeless trophies. the seal, glistening wet by the stream, its thick fat promising bounty. and lastly, the ram—its dark, bloodied horns testament to the battle that had taken his eye.

he turned back to her, his single eye blazing, his voice a low growl brimming with finality. no more waiting, he rumbled. his breath warmed her ear, his teeth brushing lightly against her neck in a gesture both possessive and tender. in the morning, cally-ope. you will be mine, fully. my wife.

there was no room for argument in his tone, no hesitation in his movements. he leaned against her, primal and demanding, yet with the faintest flicker of reverence—a man who had hunted the world itself to bring it to her paws. you have waited long enough, elska. now, i take you.