Variety is the Spice of Life

Although nobody had been seriously injured in the practice raid with Valta, Kavik was nursing a particularly bruised ego and a sore head. The brute had gotten cocky, assumed he was the smartest one on the battlefield, tried to find an easy opportunity to snag a victory, and what had it gotten him? Ambushed by a little canine... thing less than half his size and absolutely beaten down. After the Valtan hybrid had punched his ticket with that last kick straight to his head, Kavik had laid on the ground staring up at the sky while his ears rang, just trying to figure out what the hell had just happened to him. At the end of the day though, all that mattered was that he'd lost, and losing sucked. The medics had triaged him, deemed him mostly intact save for maybe a mild concussion and a wounded pride, then sent him home to rest.

But rest did not come easy for Kavik. He was still humiliated, ashamed of his easy defeat by such an unimposing opponent. Best to not judge a book by its cover, he supposed, much too late to bring himself any comfort. The arctic brute lay spread out on his bed, rubbing his paws over some sore spots that would likely ache for a little while and wishing he had someone to rub his sore back for him. He now understood why so many wolves had companions around them. Gods, he'd kill for a good massage! As if fate was listening to him, the sound of a throat clearing behind him caught the brute's attention, icy blue eyes turning to find Manea gracing his doorway with her beauty. She grinned at him and even in his dour mood he couldn't help but grin back at her, noting the way her aqua eyes roamed unabashedly over his body. He hadn't seen much of the violet fae since she made up with her husband, so this was quite a pleasant surprise!

Manea's purring question and wagging tail left little question in his mind what she was thinking about, and Kavik's own bushy white tail began to wag and beat gently against his bed to show his own delight to Manea's presence. "If I ever say no to that offer, go ahead and just mercy kill me then and there. I've clearly gone senile," he remarked in jest, motioning to the Matriarch to come in with a tip of his muzzle. He didn't immediately roll over to face her yet, instead giving her free access to keep drinking in the sight of the well-muscled brute lounging out on his bed, the hard planes of his physique noticeable even beneath his plush fur. When she did enter and approach him, Kavik then rolled over to face her, shifting to slide over on his bed a bit to share the comfort with his regal lover. "Are you here to help me lick my wounds or to spank me for losing?" asked Kavik with a cheeky, teasing smirk on his lips. Sure, he hadn't been hurt that bad, but he certainly wouldn't turn down the sexy Mendacium queen's offer of comfort if she was here to help raise his spirits.

"Kävik av Fjellen"