King Elk Forest ≼ völuspá

nyktos watches. watches the brief flash of teeth, the drop of her body like a heavy stone into water to the earth. in the moments that follow he's a miasma of things: of the sickening rush of pleasure at the reaction — did she recognize that he was sired by the dreadfather? that his blood is that of gods and commanders? which was followed by soft furrow of his brow.

rise, implores nyktos. i mean you no harm. best he did not indulge those dark fantasies lest he welcome the risk of sinking too far into them, much like his father had.