Hideaway Strath sarcophagus

Kynareth’s been thinking. Thinking about a lot of things and their newest addition has been one of them. The odd man had trespassed and for once Kynareth’s curiosity (and his Priestess’ suggestion) allowed him to spare this man a heart wrenching death to then be seated at their borders as another decoration among many. That man is lucky Kynareth thinks with his dick as much as his brain — good thing he’s easy on the eyes or the brindle brute probably would’ve been less likely to spare him. 

Still, his thoughts continue. Bouncing around in his head and constantly plaguing him. His curiosity must be sated, he wishes to know more of this mysterious man that wandered onto his turf. So as he moves, he catches his scent and follows it, moving swiftly around the territory in tow of this man’s seemingly aimless wandering. 

Until he sees him. Bright eyes raking down his pale fur, except the minor golden accents that the sun glints off beautifully. The dark fur lining the deepest, royal blue set of eyes he’s ever seen. He’s quite mesmerized. He hides it well as he trots up to him casually. Intentionally allowing his heavy footfalls to be heard to not spook him. He sidles close to him, but not uncomfortably so. Kyn can’t help the interest smile that crawls onto his maw as he eyes him down.

“How’s our newest addition doing now that he’s sober?” He jokes in that smooth, but deeply attractive voice of his.