[A sound not quite of skepticism, and not quite pleasure. Mouth plants down against his nape and it sends a warm flush through his stomach, strange and appealing. He expects the same bite that's been planted in the front, and it never comes.]
[That is the strangest of all.]
Chilly? [In the thick of the Vale, Matoba's natural incensed scent mixes with the trickling streams and heady soil; it feels somehow natural, in his element. His throat feels strangely tight.] I'm not much help for that.
no subject
[A sound not quite of skepticism, and not quite pleasure. Mouth plants down against his nape and it sends a warm flush through his stomach, strange and appealing. He expects the same bite that's been planted in the front, and it never comes.]
[That is the strangest of all.]
Chilly? [In the thick of the Vale, Matoba's natural incensed scent mixes with the trickling streams and heady soil; it feels somehow natural, in his element. His throat feels strangely tight.] I'm not much help for that.