Nova Peak τ

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skorpa wanted to argue, to tease, to tell her that he planned to roll in the hogbelly mud and return to her at dawn. but the press of her paw against his heartbeat, the sight of her indigo eyes softening for him; they limned the winsook-man in deep pleasure.

still, surprise found its niche among his heartstrings.

"hvad kan jeg lære dig, som du ikke allerede har vist?" a kiss for her chin, for the cheekbone uplifted to open air. "jeg kan fortælle dig om Frigg og Freyja og de andre. og jeg kan vise dig runerne for dem, og hvordan du laver deres altre."

his eyes caressed those of ayovi, her mouth, the slope of her brow; "jeg vil endda vise dig den drik, vi bruger til at kommunikere i deres rige."

the sight of her blood would never leave skorpa, and he did not wish it so.

"men jeg kan ikke lære dig at blive en kvinde fra nord. jeg kan kun vise dig, hvordan du når frem til de gudinder, der bestemmer den slags."

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