[ The poor stolen ring from Sharess' Caress. It sits pretty on his tan skin, jade-green stone fortuitously in theme with the wood elf aesthetic, its purpose as an engagement offer forgotten over time. That said, while rings aren't an indication of commitment in Aen Seidhe society, Iorveth is peripherally aware of the practice.

He won't assume, though. A quick upwards quirk of his brow, and he lets his expression settle back into warm neutral. ]

And I'll get you one to match it.

[ Equal, in all things. Iorveth wiggles his fingers, lightly teasing. ]

I briefly considered the idea of you putting ink to my skin, but you might find that a bit, [ hm, ] much.