Black Morass i'm timeless

YES MAAM

he follows a melody and the scent of iron. tactlessly he parted the reeds, dark legs wading through the waters with minimal effort as he found the source of the singing. a woman, ethereal in her beauty. but she wasn't a maiden. the scent of the old brute clotted in her fur even at this distance. this must be the reverend mother — even theissor would be able to tell.

theissor did not approach her side. distance was needed from this one, the praetor did not trust himself to get carried away by earthly desires.