Ghost Lion Crag Ride or die.

arcturus kept ignoring the rational. he was absolutely flabbergasted by this woman. so all she had wanted from him was the meat that swung between his legs? (in hindsight this was painfully obvious to everyone but arcturus - no one said he was the smartest man).

so that was really it. she had hit it, and then quit it.

arcturus had never once, in his life, felt so inviolably disabused.

he stared after her as she pulled away, his shame commingling with a sense of ugly ineptitude. he realized then that towhee was no virtuous amazon, no proud wife to be wedded -- she was a destroyer, a bathsheba -- and he had ruthlessly been twisted by the humors of his own dick.

as if her pushing away from him wasn't painful enough, what she spoke as she left (about him finding whatever it was he was looking for) was a slap in the face that ripped him from post-coitus purgatory, and dumped him into terrestrial hell. what did that even mean?! 'i hope you find what you're looking for!' he didn't even have a comeback for that. his jaw hung slack as towhee completely faded from view, and he was left with his own ill humors for company.

he had expected losing his virginity would be the flourishing, crowing apex of his growing manhood. instead, arcturus felt like a little boy abandoned by the world entire, and an ugly bitterness grew in his heart as the cold closed in.