Sunset Valley i make the money, not wash the clothes.

"quit all that now." but his tone was rough, jovial even. colt pressed his crown against indra's carmine shoulder, then snorted hot breath over her ear. fetid breath, with how often he chewed the birchbark.
"don't matter who yew had before," colt growled warmly. "i got yew now."
mine, mine, mine to me.
the rogue drew away as sharply as he had pressed, half-roused beneath the hunger. but the hunger was what mattered.
colt put his nose to the earth, abandoning his questions as quickly as he had left natigvik.