Firefly Ravine fifteen states [m]

velaryon draws in a slow, savoring breath; drinking in her scent, drinking in her. he watches as she begins to circle him, standing as still as the saltstone he was carved from.

temptation digs its claws into the cairn without mercy, whispering lovely, dark nothings into his ear. it is a struggle not to give into instinct; awoken and burning brightly within him. but there was a level of decorum that velaryon was determined to maintain.

yes. he rasps in response; yes, he was strong. he had to be, to survive the Sea, though this he does not give voice to.