Wapun Meadow honeywine

Perhaps he strikes a nerve by asking about the blackbird, perhaps not. Yet the heat between isn’t new, rather it’s familiar. Donovan chases it shamelessly, a interested smile curling along his maw.

I should go back.

His smile almost falls, but he keeps his composure. The following sentence solidifies his confidence once more. “Of course, darling.” He hums lowly to the male. Nosing into the plume of his neck bro fly before pulling back. Allowing him time to leave if he so wishes.