Chúdan glances across the path at his companion, the sound of the fading footsteps echoing in the now empty courtyard. Their party disbanded, and their quest incomplete, the pair now sit at a crossroad.
The sran hums deliriously as he lays beneath his master. “I am… tired, after that. As if I worked much harder.” He is shaking gently, too, though he doesn’t notice.
“The first time is always rough. You’ll get used to it” he replies, sliding slowly from the sran and rolling off his, dragging him into an embrace. “Did you enjoy it?”
Surely that’s a jest. He was still shivering from the pleasure. “I can’t imagine anything better,” he says without any exaggeration.