Neverwinter Forest he wanted love, i taste of blood

It is odd how the mood shifts the moment he settles at Zephyr’s side. Tension curls in the silver form. Each beat of his heart and the wheezing rise and fall of his chest is felt by Kratos tucked close. Yet, instead of darting away, Zephyr presses nearer.
Pale gold eyes narrow in question—foreign to this feeling, to the effect he somehow manages on Zephyr. Maybe if he thought deeper about how the silver affects him, he’d understand. But he fails to acknowledge it.
In pain? He questions instead.