Mahao'li laughs and pulls away, falling back into step as they continued down the path. "Come on now; Fijovi  is hardly the gratuitous sex the gradahn paint it as - I would be surprised if the Lominsans found it any more offensive than a hug or handshake. Besides -" he sticks his tongue out at Qana'to as he sidesteps a fallen branch " - I checked if anyone was around before doing it."

"Yeah but now I have to make it the rest of the way while bholj'a," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "It's actually quite uncomfortable to be hard under this heavy fabric, you know."

"Hard again just from the fijovi? I feel incredibly powerful right now." Mahao'li taunts, butting his head against the taller man's shoulder. "And I don't - my clothes feel pretty comfortable to be hard in." He tugs aside the tunic slightly so Qana'to could get a look at his bulge to emphasize his point.

"I'd grab it to be sure, but you have a kojndu on. Almost like you don't want people seeing your pride. Is that why you're taunting me? Too afraid to show your own off?"

"I'm wearing it because the tunic you lent me doesn't actually cover anything, and it was you who told me the Lominsan's want us covered. I have no problem at all showing myself off." He smirks at the other keeper, tugging the fabric codpiece off and tossing it towards Qana'to. "Better?~"

"Much!" Qana'to replies. "I can tell you're a satihr without a magnifying glass now." His eyes widen slightly at how hard Mahao'li actually was—maybe not quite full mast, but near enough. Thankfully they were almost home. "The gate's to the left. Try to hold on a few more fulms, alright?"

"Speak for yourself - I'm not the one already at full mast, ruunte Qana'to" he giggles as they round another corner, the bhenah  gates open welcomingly in the near distance. "Are you sure you can make it?"

"Nope," he chirps. "I might pounce on the first thing to catch my eye." He looks up and around theatrically. "Hopefully we'll be safely inside before it comes to that."

"Hopefully - would hate to have some poor innocent Lominsan get pounced on by the local ruunte." Mahao'li chirps back.

"We do have to put up flyers telling people to stay away during bhewruuniko ceremonies," Qana'to noted as he turned and stepped onto the grass under the shrine's entry canopy. "Phew. Safe."

Mahao'li giggles and playfully pats Qana'to's shoulder. "Well done - I'm proud of you." He tilts his head slightly as he considers Qana's former sentence. "I'm afraid I'm not actually familiar with the ceremony - you'll have to tell me the specifics sometime."

"Well, one's coming up in a week or so," Qana'to replies, immediately shucking his tunic and sighing happily as the air caresses his skin. "If you're still around by then, you're welcome to join." He tosses his hair out of his face and nods toward the door. "Come, I'd better drop this off to get washed and then get myself cleaned up. And you can meet the poor guy responsible for getting your armor cleaned up."

Mahao’li nods, likewise doffing his tunic and following Qana’to towards the door. “That sounds wonderful - it would be a pleasure to join.” He replies, as they pass through the door into the candlelit interior of the shrine. He lets his gaze wander slowly as his eyes adjust, noting the differences from the previous shrines he had visited. “And yes, I need to properly thank him for his services.”

"Stay hard, then," Qana'to says, in a voice utterly lacking any sort of joking character. They walk past the altar and toward a couch where a man was sitting, orange-pink hair glowing strangely in the yellowish light thrown by all the votives. The daylight in the windows was weak: perhaps the storm was approaching already. "Cehn'to, I have to apologize pre-emptively," Qana'to calls out with a smile. "But I have absolutely trashed my robes again. I'll put them down by the wash-basin if you'd like. Oh! And I should introduce our newest guest, whom you've already had the pleasure of helping."

Mahao'li smiles at the other man, politely dipping his head in greeting. "I am Mahao'li of the Moui, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, accept my apologies for the state of my armour - had I known Qana'to would be arranging to have it cleaned for me, I would have come to see you to thank you in advance." He smiles and flicks his ears, playfully bumping shoulders with the ruunte beside him. "I will also take the blame for the state of Qana'to's tunic - he insisted on attacking me without provocation, and it got soiled whist I was defending myself. Please, allow me to tend to washing it. It's the least I can do." 

"I assure you I was very much provoked," Qana'to snapped back before the other man could respond, grinning and crossing his arms. "I was entirely justified."

"Last I checked, Ruunte Qana'to, acknowledging your arousal is not provocation for an - how did you describe it? -  'Aggresively Sexual' attack such as yours, and therefore not at all justified." Mahao'li chimed in reply, likewise crossing his arms, and turning once more to the new Miqo'te. "Ruunte Qana'to chided me for being too sexual for the Lominsans, before proceeding to grope and make out with me with the passion of a freshly minted ram."

"That sounds like the ruunte," the man says with a laugh as he takes the clothes from Qana'to. He turns and reaches out to the new guest, cupping his nads for a fijovi and smirking at the erection just above them. "Nae'te, satihr. I am called Cehn'to of the Aliapoh, and I greet you in Menphina's grace."

“Nae’te, Cehn’to. I am Mahao’li of the Moui.” Mahao’li hums softly as he feels Cehn’to’s fingers curl around him, and moves to mirror the greeting, slipping his hand beneath the shonjate’s tunic “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

"You are the one I have to thank for that horrid set of combat leathers, aren't you?" Cehn'to wrinkles his nose in disgust, though his tone is jocular. "The only reason I'm not hopping mad about it is that I'm too gross for Hrevna'a to stand guard next to, so I got to skip the shift to wash off. I am mostly clean now, I think, though the nose doesn't work so well after all that, so I may have some more soaking to do."

Mahao'li has the good sense to blush and rub the back of his neck sheepishly, although he can tell the other keeper is not upset. "Yes, and I offer my sincerest apologies - Had I been made aware of it before Rhaefi'a sent them away, I would have pulled them out to spare you the suffering." He smiles at Cehn'to and bows slightly, in jest. "Of course, I am most thankful it is done, and it would be my pleasure to repay the favour in kind, in whatever manner you wish." He leans closer, making a show of sniffing him bfore straightening out and beaming at the other man. "Well, not that my nose is much better after having suffered in those armours as well, but you smell pretty good to me." 

"Let's hope so. I soaked for the better part of an hour," he snorts. "I did not want to force someone to scrub for me while the odor was still strong but maybe now I can convince someone to help me out." He shrugs slyly. "I'm hoping the ruunte here will rule that mere soaking doesn't count as a monastic violation."

"But you didn't think to ask the ruunte first?" Qana'to says, crossing his arms. "If I rule it a violation you'd have to make up for it. You're lucky I'm not much of a rigorist on things like that." With a sigh, he looks at Mahao'li. "There aren't too many restrictions on the commune but among them is that we're not allowed to do certain things for ourselves, like prepare food or wash up. The idea is to be focusing on others instead of ourselves, though in this case the goal was to make the eventual washing more pleasant for another, which puts it in a gray area."

Mahao'li alternates his gaze between the two men, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he listens to their exchange. "In his defense, Ruunte Qana'to, you weren't here to ask permission of. You can hardly expect him to have waited until we returned to ask you." His smirk widens, as he sidesteps, standing closer to Cehn'to and turning to Qana'to, expressing his solidarity with the Aliapoh. "If anything, I think it would break the spirit of Jhaliko to have made him wait - it's not very hospitable to beet greeted with the stench of stale Morbol, as I'm sure Rhaefi'a can attest."

Qana'to's tail flicks as he leans on one hip and sticks a foot out to the side. "By that logic, it's also inhospitable to greet a guest while cranky from hunger, while cold from having no clean clothes to wear, or while overly excited from not having touched yourself, and then we have managed to get rid of all the rules in one go. Where's the line?"