Sawtooth Spire honey suckle chocolate-dripping kisses for your love

the sun had died down before mahler completed his final patrol for the next several hours. sagtannet had as of late been silent, and the eisen saw little reason to believe it would not remain so.
he thought of sarah as he padded across exposed rock, wondered when nyx would swim up from the ranks to claim what he had promised.
there was a new scent here, gently laced with melkor's acceptance. he came down to find a woman laid across a plinth, an impressive loop of black around her shoulders, mantle to enhance the burnished honey of her eyes. "evening," mahler grunted affably, stretching himself down some feet away.