He's been with rough women before, women who are strong and scarred and strange compared to the night-flowers that bloom in the brothels of the big cities, Eskel's usual refuge when it came to women, but he looks at her with surprise and reverence nevertheless. He'll never ask the orgins of her scars-- just as he hopes she won't be too nosy about his-- but he does trace them reverently with a calloused finger. He glances up at her and his yellow eyes glint mischievously. He bends his head and with sucking mouth and pinching teeth, he raises a wicked love-bite the color of a blackberry on the tender flesh of one of her breasts.

"Something to take on the road when we go our separate ways, eh?" He teases.

{{Oh no! Go to bed!<3}}