Accept the fires from which I came ;;

His heart warms at her reassurances and he sighs in pleasure. He should not have expected anything else from her. He follows her touch, greedily running his muzzle along her feminine frame, languidly brushing the velvet of his lips across the curve of her hip. Were he to be struck a killing blow, here in this moment, he would die a contented man … They are facing one another once again and her soft lips gently roam his face. Thick lashes are shuttered in quiet pleasure but flare open when she retreats, his skin cold and lost without her soft, breathy touch. When he sees the somber look in her eyes, he immediately regrets shadowing their reunion with such lamentable talk but it would not have felt right had he ignored the matter altogether. A low nicker rumbles in his throat, encouragement and reassurance, and he nods slowly at her self-diagnosis. His heart then clenches when Tia Maria is brought into the conversation and his lids shutter close for a split second. He could only imagine the despair that must poison the grey woman’s soul because, were it Avarice … He shakes his head, unable to even consider the thought.

His muzzle trails the lines her frown creates, a gentle attempt to smooth them away. When she finds her voice again a tremor runs through his body, empathy (never sympathy) for the Southern queen flooding his thoughts. Running his nose down the side of her face he pauses when their heads are aligned, nostrils working against one another, the intimate exchange of breaths held for a moment or two. He then takes a step back, gaze taking in her sin and gold form. “Surely she wouldn’t …” he trails off, the thought too awful to complete. Though Tia holds the Opal and thus will never die of old age, there are ways to circumvent the preventative magic … He cannot imagine the china doll queen to take such drastic measures but then, he may not know her as well as he may think. Troubled, his line of vision finds the horizon. “Something must be done,” he finally says, though nothing more is brought forth, speaking clearly of his lack of ideas as to what that particular something might be …