Barrow Fields we look sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard. we are, but it’s almost effortless

yay no more vague

The pale Drakru felt the rumble before he heard it, and halted a robust distance off while rounding about to face the source of whomever it was. The scowling, smoldering face was one he recognized instantaneously, and an ivory, shit-eating smirk clawed its way up Vonn’s one scarred cheeks. There wasn’t a face the Crow had yet to forget — of those conquered and almost-conquered, anyways.

Arcing argent brows at the darkened, ruby-sodden grasses about them, he lilted airily, ”Nice tapestry, no? I should get one for my lair.” His tone was at both moments amused and entirely, bitterly jesting. Vonn regarded the Rusalkan with flaring, impish eyes; his own stance cocksure and poised, whereas the coastal male before him inspected him with nothing short of withering. ”Perhaps I should ask to commission your lovely mistress for a rendition.”