[ Ugh, ridiculous. Two animals in his space. Despite himself, he can't help but smile. Iorveth's nose against the thin skin behind his ear tickles, and the cub feels warm in his lap. He feels strangely— content. A foreign feeling, but not an unwelcome one. ]
Blood and grave dirt?
[ His scent is one of the few physical things he's insecure about. He can make red eyes and pale skin look good, but no one is selling a perfume that smells like undeath, no matter how complimentary Iorveth is about it. He strokes the owlbear with one hand and reaches up to card his fingers through Iorveth's hair with the other, petting two wild creatures at once. ]
no subject
Blood and grave dirt?
[ His scent is one of the few physical things he's insecure about. He can make red eyes and pale skin look good, but no one is selling a perfume that smells like undeath, no matter how complimentary Iorveth is about it. He strokes the owlbear with one hand and reaches up to card his fingers through Iorveth's hair with the other, petting two wild creatures at once. ]
Well, far be it from me to deny a compliment.