Bitterroot Valley tooth

it was stupid. it was very fucking stupid that belharra had left him. hell, asmodeus had thought they'd been having fun. sucked to find out she hadn't felt the same. 

after entertaining himself with a pair of sirens on some warmer beach, after an illness that kept him sequestered in an ugly forest, asmodeus had returned to his fave stalking grounds. he wasn't looking for her dumb ass, he told himself.

he scraped up buried caribou meat in the valley, left by wolves no doubt. the loner's black eyes creased with pleasure as he robbed the cache. finally things were looking up.

there had been a lot of wolves here. women too. asmodeus drifted toward the glacier looming to his left, a howl of challenge and invitation rising from his chest.

come and play, sweethearts.

There was something oddly tantalizing about the call, a bit of spice to it. Asphodel drifted toward it aimlessly and found the source: a pale, handsome man. She approached in silence, expectant; he'd called, after all. He'd better have something entertaining planned.

asmodeus was rewarded with the approach of a flower maiden. he watched her impassively, though his face broke into a grin that did nothing for his lightless eyes.

"do you know what you want?" the serpent asked, approaching her with a confident step and a lash of his white tail. "or do you need help finding out?"