There was something so tantalizing and raunchy about a land that was full of strapping young lads. All mixing together, rubbing bodies, and just partaking in general tom-foolery. It thrilled and it excited him, and put a rather happy bounce to his step.

Even the air, humid and heavy, temps him and there is a sweet little smile on his speckled lips. Oh what fun it must be, to be part of a travelling troupe, dancing through the trees and making like merry bad men in tights. There was something roguish and just bad about being with so many men.

Maybe it would be enlightening for him- maybe he would learn a thing of two.

Hah!

The wicked little grin curls upon his lips once more, and he flags his great dark tail and prances ever quicker into the lagoon- land of sweet humidity and musky men. Oh, now isn’t that just absolutely riveting. He had not the expectations that he would be well received, but word on the winds was that the men were being sequestered off into a not-too-far mountain top, like little damsels that were needing rescuing.

Not that he would be of any use, but the whole idea of it was just too fun for him to pass up.

Someone ought to just charge right on in and declare themselves a hero, running buck wild through the peak and rescuing all the boys, just as women were likely to be saved from the dragon by knights in shining armor. The idea was delectable and delicious, and Valens always relished a nice little story to sing about. Of course, the art of being a travelling bard was always a hard life, and perhaps he should eat his fill before going about his business in the lagoon.

It was not as frosty here, not as cold and as wet.

He was also rather pleased that he still had yet to once more plunge into the cold, wintery waters in order to explore further, but he was also getting so damned good at procrastinating going about manly duties. So he picked up a little tune that hung deep in his throat, a hum that kept him entertained whilst he walked- a tidy bounce about his steps.