Northstar Vale das gericht

it went with the efficacy of cult worshippers, each reveling in one another, such an emphatic display of decadence it might have sickened onlookers with the sheer theatre.
thankfully they had no audience, and it was due so such that mahler allowed himself the catharsis of meeting andraste bodily and fully, mind interlocked into the actions and turning to steam that blew forth from
his nostrils and scorched the back of his dove's head.
petted and held and snared by the net of her tonality, he surrendered, and curved breathless against her. 
all lethargic dragonfire now. mahler smote her throat once with the bite of his teeth and let himself decamp to his own body when they had at last come undone.
"ve are not good at speaking," he remarked when he had regained himself
watching her placidly as he spoke, mahler felt the heat of them rising round the cavern, and let his tongue loll in a quiet exhibition of a sated creature.