bad decisions make for great stories

Part of him was deeply amused to see the fae grumble over the supposed horrors of the northern reaches. Another shrug, which was a staple of his gestural repertoire. While usually he would be the one to leave things be, let someone hold onto that disdain for the northern regions for as long as they'd like. Left more territory open for him to explore. However, he was a little drunk, and the ambiance was nice. He was bolder than usual in moments like these. "Maybe the mountains and the caves aren't for you, but the way snow gently tumbles through the thick canopy in the redwood forest, sheltered from the howling winds and bitter storms beyond the edge of the treeline... that's certainly a beautiful thing." rumbling vocals dropped into something softer, pitched down to a gentle murmur. Say what you will of his attitude and (negligible) moral compass, the man had his moments. As the silence dragged on for a moment, he cleared his throat softly and took a bite of the steaming haunch to occupy his blabbering mouth.

After he'd swallowed, he took a drink. Better to wash away the mushy nonsense before he spoke again and acted like a simpering fool. In a more jovial, brash tone of voice he said "Or Kennocha Lake, that's a hell of a sight in winter. Especially with the auroras." Better take another drink. As he tried to shake off the moment of weakness, he became quite aware of the way Jack had settled herself against his frame. The gap between them had vanished all at once, and he'd hardly noticed. From hip to hock she'd tilted her body to recline against his own hip and thigh. He had been right earlier, that brief slip of his attention- his dense cosmic coat mingled with the smooth gold of hers like snow settling over a craggy peak. Letting loose a slow breath, he allowed himself the luxury of trailing his gaze over her body. Deceptively bulky, hiding the gentle curve of her hip and thigh until it was pressed against him. Jack was the right size to tuck neatly into the curve of his own body as he lay there. Burly forelimb lifted ever so slowly, offering just the slight caress of ivory digits against her bared flank. A low rumble thrummed deep in his chest, climbing his throat to escape his inky jaws as a curious hum.

"We can always stoke the fire and cook that haunch again later.." the sentence came out soft this time, crimson eyes flicking from the smooth plateau of her waist up to her shoulders, heavy skull dipping to drag the edge of a tusk through the thickened fur of her ruff. "If you're still cold, I'd be happy to lend some warmth." he uttered the teasing syllables into the soft fur of her ear, close as he'd dare. Once upon a time he might have grabbed hold of her scruff and sealed the deal, but he was older, a bit more sentimental. And he was wine drunk. So he would gladly slow the pace for her..

- fade to black -