Silvertip Mountain chickity check yo self

in this moment, the greatest source of merrick's fascination was himself. he had come here, he had brought the boy, punished him, pronounced judgement upon him, and sentenced him to death. merrick was judge, jury, executioner; the thought titillated him until his teeth clenched together upon the sensation of something like carnal pleasure.
that itself was far from his mind, except when he looked upon astara, and ached for her in his marrow. his body had decided for him what he did not understand, an urge separate from the one that had led him to throw the child from the cliff — he did not understand it, and sought only to comingle the two, contemplating in detail what tasting her blood might cause him to experience.
she was too precious a companion, however, and so merrick pulled away from those thoughts, ducking with a sharp inhale as a disturbed owl flew savagely close to his head. a gasp; a laugh that started quietly and began to trickle into the recesses of the crystal place.