The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Donovan wastes no time padding around the male to move under the overhang. He doesn’t mind the rain, but he definitely doesn’t it love it. His eyes follow the male as he walks past and he takes in his features. The deep, hairless scars on his thighs and the pewter pelt looks good on his rather feminine frame.

His voice is quick to the point, not rude, but not exactly the picture of friendliness. Something that truly doesn’t bother Donovan. Though at his correction of Donovan’s greeting, the brindled male can’t help but chuckle smoothly. “Yes sir.” He hums back teasingly. “What’s your name?” He asks then.