Lion Head Mesa And which is to remain unknowable and unremembered

Aventus failed to find the humour in the man's joke. Bruins were large and imposing, but lumbering and lazy. The sows were the wild ones, unpredictable and quick to anger when cubs were about. He remained silent and impassive while the punchline sailed right over his shadowed brow.

He understood the meaning of the rest well enough, if not from experience. He didn't want to admit to a man whose whole life seemed steeped in pleasures that he had never had a woman and would not know. He only knew that the thought of a mouthy one beneath him stirred something wild in him, but their cheek and sass stripping him of his masculinity was enough to make the very idea unpleasant. Better a meek one to bend and obey his every command, or so he thought, but he knew little of pleasures.

The only one I have met like Maggie made me feel like a little boy, he said, without meaning to admit that at all. Damn his wandering mind. He had not been right with himself since witnessing Astara's shredded corpse. They entered a spacious room and Aventus watched shadows flit away at the corners at Pharaoh's command. He wondered what it must be like to command that level of respect. It was enchanting, and unsettling, to think of servants.

I try to be so, said Aventus, settling down on his stomach. The stone was pleasantly warm. I think he would prefer my sister, however. But it is I who stands at his side now.