Moonspear ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ envinyatar (mtr.)

even now he recalled the crude words that vercingetorix had flung at him, and wondered toward the traipsing cruelty of it. if andraste captured such with her hint of madness, mahler answered in his own tongue. let him be consumed, utterly, completely; he would not resist it upon the eve of his foray back to diaspora.
she sought him, a feral wordlessness trilling otherwordly from the alabaster throat; here he would kiss, a rejoining growl thrumming beneath his own chin. mahler's questioning of such was long past; he owned no part of andraste, nor she of him. the pleasure was in the riotous freedom of giving, and he surrendered to the pull of her lips and the pulse of her veins —
stoicism forgotten, he sought to embrace her now, curling around the thin pallid nature of her very self like a stormcloud fierce and gravid with the desire unrelenting.
lust, beyond; mahler knew now he could not be one in such a way with a creature for whom he felt little; the lashing bite of flame in his arteries was for the way she uttered his name, beheld his visage;
aurewen still to the secret places of his heart; he kissed her flanks with forelegs and waited.