Chapter 9
Lord Avhonari lay in his bed with Z’sharan curled up beside him. The wereleopard’s amber head lay on his shoulder, and the nobleman mused that sleeping like this Z’sharan looked particularly cat-like. He ran his hand down his lover’s bare back, feeling the silken skin under his fingertips. Z’sharan stirred a little at his touch, and then a low sound broke forth from his body. It made Lord Avhonari smile to realize that the wereleopard had begun to purr.
It was early morning, and he supposed that he should get up and start his day here soon. But he was simply enjoying himself too much just lying here with Z’sharan. He would have been pleased to just stay in bed all day, but unfortunately the life of a nobleman (particularly one who was active in politics) did not allow him to just laze about whenever he liked. He sighed, his fingers finding the tender skin of his lover’s nape and scratching through the hair there lightly. Z'sharan squirmed against him, and one hand with its long, claw-like nails came to rest on his bare chest. As he continued to caress the wereleopard’s nape, those nails opened and closed just like a cat’s when it was kneading. He smiled, amused and delighted by Z’sharan behavior even when he was in his humanoid form.
The golden eyes slowly flickered open. “Good morning, Z’sharan,” Avhonari husked.
A sleepy smile lifted the wereleopard’s lips. “Good morning, Avhonari.”
“Did you sleep well?” the nobleman asked.
His lover nodded. “Mmmm,” he said, stretching slowly and lazily. Then he snuggled back in up against Avhonari’s side. “You’re warm,” he said happily.
The nobleman chuckled. “I’m glad to be of service,” he said.
Z’sharan’s eyes took on a wicked gleam. “You are?” he said, then before the human could respond he dove under the covers. His head was a large lump that burrowed in. Lord Avhonari might have protested, except for the fact that a small, rather rough pink tongue suddenly darted out and rasped lightly over his balls under the covers. Anything he might have said was lost in a groan as Z’sharan’s hot little mouth took him in. Oh, by the Gods! Lord Avhonari stared down with dazed eyes at the hump under the covers, shuddering as the wereleopard continued to pleasure him. That tongue, even rough as it was, felt marvelous curling around his cock. His hips lifted instinctively to drive more of himself into that hot, wet orifice. As far as he was concerned, this could go on forever.
But of course it couldn’t. He was only a man, after all. Z’sharan sucked and licked him to a fabulous climax, and he cried out as he came in the wereleopard’s mouth. Then he lay back on the bed, half out of it and completely sated. Z’sharan reappeared from under the covers, licking his lips in a self-satisfied manner. “That was good, “he growled, obviously totally pleased with himself.
Lord Avhonari shook his head, even as he reached out to pull Z’sharan’s warm little body up against his own. “It was very good,” he agreed. “Thank you, Z’sharan.”
The wereleopard opened his mouth when Lord Avhonari pulled him in for a kiss, and he was perfectly happy to position himself straddling the human’s neck when Lord Avhonari returned the favor of the early morning blow job. Maybe he wouldn’t stay in bed all day, the nobleman mused as he listened to Z’sharan’s kittenish moans above his head, but it was a certainty that he wouldn’t be rising at his normal early hour today.
Traggen was in a terrible mood. He stood in the shadows and glared out at the open courtyard at the center of his uncle’s house, where two figures sat at a table eating an afternoon meal. His eyes narrowed and filled with spite and jealousy as he looked at his uncle and that little foreigner. It completely infuriated him to lose an attractive man to his UNCLE of all people! And Z’sharan’s treatment of him only made his anger blacker. How dare that weird little foreigner look down his nose at Traggen? He was a young nobleman, whereas that scholar was nothing much at all. Gods, he hated both of them right now. How he’d love to do one or both some kind of harm. But what exactly? The foreigner seemed completely harmless, and only interested in the same dull things that Lord Avhonari was. Frustration was added to his fury, and Traggen turned to stomp away in a huff. He was going out on the town and get as drunk as he possibly could and still walk.
Lord Avhonari, unaware of his nephew’s presence, smiled at Z’sharan across the table. “I was rethinking that we’d delve a bit deeper into your people’s history today, if you don’t mind,” he said as he watched his lover pick up a piece of chicken with his fingers and neatly devour it.
Z’sharan cocked his head. “We can do that,” he replied. “I have many more stories to tell you.”
“Yes, I won’t be able to record them all before I have to send you home,” Lord Avhonari said as his smile turned bittersweet. He was going to miss Z’sharan desperately when he was gone.
Sensing his melancholy, the wereleopard gave him a direct look out of those golden eyes. “You could come with me,” he said. “To my home. You would be welcome there as my mate.”
Lord Avhonari blinked. “Err…I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Z’sharan,” he said regretfully.
“Why not?”
“Well, because I have my duties here,” the nobleman sighed. “To my family and my king. I can’t simply walk away from then, much as I would sometimes like to.”
The wereleopard frowned. “You should do what your heart tells you to," he said firmly.
“Would that it was as easy as that,” Lord Avhonari sighed regretfully.
Z’sharan shrugged. “It is,” he said. “But you humans always seem to need to complicate things. I do not understand that.”
“It’s a failing in us,” Lord Avhonari remarked with a lopsided smile. “One I freely admit to.”
Traggen staggered into the house much later that evening, his eyes glazed from too much ale and the sweet smoke from the pipe he’d been smoking at the tavern he’d gone to. A servant tried to help him stand upright, but he pulled away and yelled: “Don’ toush me! I wanna spe-spe…talk ter my unshle! Where ish he! Wanna talk to him!” The servant tried to get him to calm down, but he was having none of it. “Ge’ me my unshle right now! Or I’ll have yer head!”
Another servant departed to find Lord Avhonari and tell him that Traggen was back and kicking up a drunken fuss. It didn’t take long for the nobleman to appear, with Z’sharan in tow. He frowned when he saw how soused his nephew was. “Traggen! What is the meaning of this?”
The younger man pointed a dramatic (but wavering) finger at him. “I hash a problem,” he slurred, glowering at the pair of them. “YOU ish my problem,” he spat.
Lord Avhonari lifted a brow. “Oh am I? And why is that?”
“Becush…becush…you ish such a dried-up schtick, no fun at all,” Traggen groused, wavering on his feet. “Won’t let ME have any fun, either. Always moral-moral…leshuring me about everthin’. So tired of it. You an’ that strange whore of yours…” his finger moved to point to Z’sharan.
Lord Avhonari‘s face darkened. "Please do not speak about Z’sharan that way, Traggen. I have had just about enough of you. I think perhaps that its time you returned to your mother.”
“Oh, yeah! Ge’ rid of me! I don’t shink so!” Traggen yelled, and then pulled his sword.
This would have been far more dramatic a gesture if he hadn’t been staggering. Still, he moved with surprising speed as he lunged at his uncle. Lord Avhonari might have been cut at least – if a blur of motion beside him hadn’t slammed into the drunken Traggen and borne him to the ground kicking and screaming. A furious Z’sharan glared down at the youth; his lips pulling back from his teeth menacingly. Traggen's eyes widened when he got a good look at the fangs in Z’sharan’s mouth – and then a long, low sound broke from the foreigner’s lips, a sound that shocked Traggen into immobility. It was a growl. Not a human sound of anger, but a low, menacing thing that would have been more suited coming from the throat of a big cat. Traggen was so terrified that he pissed himself, and a yellow pool spread out on the marble floor under him. Z’sharan’s claws curled, but before he could sink either them or his fangs into Traggen, Lord Avhonari pulled him back and away off of his nephew. Staring up into the burning golden eyes, Traggen made a small sound and tried to shrink into himself.
“Don’t hurt him, Z’sharan,” the human hissed into his enraged lover’s ear. “If you do, you’ll be thrown into prison. Iron bars, remember? Besides, the God’s help me; he’s my flesh and blood. I don’t want him killed or permanently injured. Please, for me.”
His plea made the wereleopard relax in his hands, and he was able to pull Z’sharan away from his cowering nephew. Lord Avhonari looked down at the youth and sighed. This was not good at all. Traggen wouldn’t be scared for long, and anger was sure to follow on fear’s heels. The terror he'd felt would have washed away enough of the alcohol in his blood that Traggen would be sure to remember clearly what had happened tomorrow morning, and being the spiteful creature that he was there was no way that Lord Avhonari would be able to convince his nephew to just let this whole matter lie. Any promises that he wheedled out of his young relative were sure to be broken immediately, since he knew that Traggen would want revenge for this humiliation. And he could try to pack the boy back off to the country, but he was (technically) a grown man. He could just return to the Capitol whenever he felt like it. This was the end. His heart sinking in his breast, Lord Avhonari accepted the inevitable. He would have to send Z’sharan away for his own safety now. So soon! He had the tremendous urge to boot his nephew in the side for speeding up this whole process, but he wasn’t that petty. He sighed, turning to one of the watching servants.
“Please escort my nephew to his room,” he told the man, who had been far enough away that he had neither seen nor heard what Traggen had, “And bar the door for the night. Let him sleep it off. And you,” he went on to another servant, “Please have my carriage prepared. I have an unexpected journey that I need to make. I want it ready in an hour,” he said as the first servant scooped up the still shell-shocked and unresisting Traggen and dragged him away.
The other servant left to see to his order, and Lord Avhonari turned to his lover. “We have to leave, Z’sharan,” he told the wereleopard regretfully. “Traggen is sure to tell someone about what he saw tonight, and while he was drunk he wasn’t so far gone that he won’t remember what he just saw in the morning. I will take you home tonight.”
The wereleopard stared up at him. “Come with me,” he said again, echoing their earlier conversation.
“I cannot,” the nobleman insisted.
“You can,” Z’sharan rasped. “You are my mate, and a scholar. You do not belong here, living like this. You are miserable, I can see that. Come home with me, and forget your duties. How many years have you carried their burden? It is time to set them down, for you to be free,” the golden eyes held a plea as he lifted a single hand eloquently. “Come home with me,” he said once more. “Don’t leave me to die of loneliness without you.”
Lord Avhonari felt like he’d taken a blow to the chest. He hesitated, but what Z’sharan was offering was something he’d wanted for a long, long time – a way out of this life that he hated. He’d never been happy or felt fulfilled, and if he let Z’sharan go what would happen? He would grow old alone, and would never know any kind of happiness again. And for what? His ungrateful family? The king that took him and his services for granted? Surely he’d carried this burden long enough. Let another take his place. “All right,” he said simply. “I’ll come with you, Z’sharan.”
The wereleopard smiled like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Let’s go!” he said excitedly. “I can’t wait to show you my home.”
Lord Avhonari found himself laughing, feeling more free than he had since he’d inherited and taken up his father’s mantle. He nodded. “I’ll just go and pack,” he told Z’sharan.
The wereleopard tagged after him as he hurried to his bedchamber and began to pack clothes, writing supplies, and toiletries with brisk efficiency. He did a good deal of traveling, and knew how to be ready to go at a moment’s notice if he had to. He slung a leather bag over his shoulder when he was done, and turned to his lover. “I need to go to my study and fetch some things, including the histories of your people,” he said. “I don’t want to leave them here for my successor to read. It wouldn’t be good if the King became aware of your people’s existence in the jungle.”
Z’sharan padded after him once more, and they went to his study. The wereleopard took one of the full satchels from him, showing off his considerable strength. Lord Avhonari left the room with only a small pang, for it was here that he’d been happiest in the past. He and his lover headed for the front courtyard, where the carriage would be waiting for them. The nobleman had taken a considerable amount of gold out of the strong box in his study, so they wouldn’t be without funds for their long journey. They emerged out into the courtyard. The carriage stood ready, the horses pawing at the ground impatiently. Lord Avhonari nodded at his servant. “I do not know how long I’ll be gone,” he told the man, which wasn’t a lie (although he sincerely doubted that he’d ever return to the kingdom), “So when he wakes up tomorrow, would you please tell Traggen that he will be in charge until I come back?”
The servant indicated his assent, although he looked unhappy. Traggen was not popular among the servants. Just wait until they discovered that Lord Avhonari wasn’t coming back, and that Traggen was the most likely candidate to be their new lord and master. Ah well – he was sorry to do this to them, but sometimes personal happiness had to come first. Lord Avhonari pulled open the carriage door and indicated to Z’sharan that he should get inside. The wereleopard clambered up onto the seat and bounced down upon it’s well-sprung surface gleefully. He was happy now that Lord Avhonari had agreed to come home with him. He would be glad to see the last of these human realms, although he’d found his mate here so he couldn’t really complain. Lord Avhonari smiled at his antics even as he climbed into the carriage himself and shut the door. He tapped on the roof, and the driver clucked to the horses. The carriage rolled out of the courtyard, and Lord Avhonari didn’t look back at the place where he’d lived for so long, but that had never really been his home.
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Lord Avhonari lay in his bed with Z’sharan curled up beside him. The wereleopard’s amber head lay on his shoulder, and the nobleman mused that sleeping like this Z’sharan looked particularly cat-like. He ran his hand down his lover’s bare back, feeling the silken skin under his fingertips. Z’sharan stirred a little at his touch, and then a low sound broke forth from his body. It made Lord Avhonari smile to realize that the wereleopard had begun to purr.
It was early morning, and he supposed that he should get up and start his day here soon. But he was simply enjoying himself too much just lying here with Z’sharan. He would have been pleased to just stay in bed all day, but unfortunately the life of a nobleman (particularly one who was active in politics) did not allow him to just laze about whenever he liked. He sighed, his fingers finding the tender skin of his lover’s nape and scratching through the hair there lightly. Z'sharan squirmed against him, and one hand with its long, claw-like nails came to rest on his bare chest. As he continued to caress the wereleopard’s nape, those nails opened and closed just like a cat’s when it was kneading. He smiled, amused and delighted by Z’sharan behavior even when he was in his humanoid form.
The golden eyes slowly flickered open. “Good morning, Z’sharan,” Avhonari husked.
A sleepy smile lifted the wereleopard’s lips. “Good morning, Avhonari.”
“Did you sleep well?” the nobleman asked.
His lover nodded. “Mmmm,” he said, stretching slowly and lazily. Then he snuggled back in up against Avhonari’s side. “You’re warm,” he said happily.
The nobleman chuckled. “I’m glad to be of service,” he said.
Z’sharan’s eyes took on a wicked gleam. “You are?” he said, then before the human could respond he dove under the covers. His head was a large lump that burrowed in. Lord Avhonari might have protested, except for the fact that a small, rather rough pink tongue suddenly darted out and rasped lightly over his balls under the covers. Anything he might have said was lost in a groan as Z’sharan’s hot little mouth took him in. Oh, by the Gods! Lord Avhonari stared down with dazed eyes at the hump under the covers, shuddering as the wereleopard continued to pleasure him. That tongue, even rough as it was, felt marvelous curling around his cock. His hips lifted instinctively to drive more of himself into that hot, wet orifice. As far as he was concerned, this could go on forever.
But of course it couldn’t. He was only a man, after all. Z’sharan sucked and licked him to a fabulous climax, and he cried out as he came in the wereleopard’s mouth. Then he lay back on the bed, half out of it and completely sated. Z’sharan reappeared from under the covers, licking his lips in a self-satisfied manner. “That was good, “he growled, obviously totally pleased with himself.
Lord Avhonari shook his head, even as he reached out to pull Z’sharan’s warm little body up against his own. “It was very good,” he agreed. “Thank you, Z’sharan.”
The wereleopard opened his mouth when Lord Avhonari pulled him in for a kiss, and he was perfectly happy to position himself straddling the human’s neck when Lord Avhonari returned the favor of the early morning blow job. Maybe he wouldn’t stay in bed all day, the nobleman mused as he listened to Z’sharan’s kittenish moans above his head, but it was a certainty that he wouldn’t be rising at his normal early hour today.
Traggen was in a terrible mood. He stood in the shadows and glared out at the open courtyard at the center of his uncle’s house, where two figures sat at a table eating an afternoon meal. His eyes narrowed and filled with spite and jealousy as he looked at his uncle and that little foreigner. It completely infuriated him to lose an attractive man to his UNCLE of all people! And Z’sharan’s treatment of him only made his anger blacker. How dare that weird little foreigner look down his nose at Traggen? He was a young nobleman, whereas that scholar was nothing much at all. Gods, he hated both of them right now. How he’d love to do one or both some kind of harm. But what exactly? The foreigner seemed completely harmless, and only interested in the same dull things that Lord Avhonari was. Frustration was added to his fury, and Traggen turned to stomp away in a huff. He was going out on the town and get as drunk as he possibly could and still walk.
Lord Avhonari, unaware of his nephew’s presence, smiled at Z’sharan across the table. “I was rethinking that we’d delve a bit deeper into your people’s history today, if you don’t mind,” he said as he watched his lover pick up a piece of chicken with his fingers and neatly devour it.
Z’sharan cocked his head. “We can do that,” he replied. “I have many more stories to tell you.”
“Yes, I won’t be able to record them all before I have to send you home,” Lord Avhonari said as his smile turned bittersweet. He was going to miss Z’sharan desperately when he was gone.
Sensing his melancholy, the wereleopard gave him a direct look out of those golden eyes. “You could come with me,” he said. “To my home. You would be welcome there as my mate.”
Lord Avhonari blinked. “Err…I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Z’sharan,” he said regretfully.
“Why not?”
“Well, because I have my duties here,” the nobleman sighed. “To my family and my king. I can’t simply walk away from then, much as I would sometimes like to.”
The wereleopard frowned. “You should do what your heart tells you to," he said firmly.
“Would that it was as easy as that,” Lord Avhonari sighed regretfully.
Z’sharan shrugged. “It is,” he said. “But you humans always seem to need to complicate things. I do not understand that.”
“It’s a failing in us,” Lord Avhonari remarked with a lopsided smile. “One I freely admit to.”
Traggen staggered into the house much later that evening, his eyes glazed from too much ale and the sweet smoke from the pipe he’d been smoking at the tavern he’d gone to. A servant tried to help him stand upright, but he pulled away and yelled: “Don’ toush me! I wanna spe-spe…talk ter my unshle! Where ish he! Wanna talk to him!” The servant tried to get him to calm down, but he was having none of it. “Ge’ me my unshle right now! Or I’ll have yer head!”
Another servant departed to find Lord Avhonari and tell him that Traggen was back and kicking up a drunken fuss. It didn’t take long for the nobleman to appear, with Z’sharan in tow. He frowned when he saw how soused his nephew was. “Traggen! What is the meaning of this?”
The younger man pointed a dramatic (but wavering) finger at him. “I hash a problem,” he slurred, glowering at the pair of them. “YOU ish my problem,” he spat.
Lord Avhonari lifted a brow. “Oh am I? And why is that?”
“Becush…becush…you ish such a dried-up schtick, no fun at all,” Traggen groused, wavering on his feet. “Won’t let ME have any fun, either. Always moral-moral…leshuring me about everthin’. So tired of it. You an’ that strange whore of yours…” his finger moved to point to Z’sharan.
Lord Avhonari‘s face darkened. "Please do not speak about Z’sharan that way, Traggen. I have had just about enough of you. I think perhaps that its time you returned to your mother.”
“Oh, yeah! Ge’ rid of me! I don’t shink so!” Traggen yelled, and then pulled his sword.
This would have been far more dramatic a gesture if he hadn’t been staggering. Still, he moved with surprising speed as he lunged at his uncle. Lord Avhonari might have been cut at least – if a blur of motion beside him hadn’t slammed into the drunken Traggen and borne him to the ground kicking and screaming. A furious Z’sharan glared down at the youth; his lips pulling back from his teeth menacingly. Traggen's eyes widened when he got a good look at the fangs in Z’sharan’s mouth – and then a long, low sound broke from the foreigner’s lips, a sound that shocked Traggen into immobility. It was a growl. Not a human sound of anger, but a low, menacing thing that would have been more suited coming from the throat of a big cat. Traggen was so terrified that he pissed himself, and a yellow pool spread out on the marble floor under him. Z’sharan’s claws curled, but before he could sink either them or his fangs into Traggen, Lord Avhonari pulled him back and away off of his nephew. Staring up into the burning golden eyes, Traggen made a small sound and tried to shrink into himself.
“Don’t hurt him, Z’sharan,” the human hissed into his enraged lover’s ear. “If you do, you’ll be thrown into prison. Iron bars, remember? Besides, the God’s help me; he’s my flesh and blood. I don’t want him killed or permanently injured. Please, for me.”
His plea made the wereleopard relax in his hands, and he was able to pull Z’sharan away from his cowering nephew. Lord Avhonari looked down at the youth and sighed. This was not good at all. Traggen wouldn’t be scared for long, and anger was sure to follow on fear’s heels. The terror he'd felt would have washed away enough of the alcohol in his blood that Traggen would be sure to remember clearly what had happened tomorrow morning, and being the spiteful creature that he was there was no way that Lord Avhonari would be able to convince his nephew to just let this whole matter lie. Any promises that he wheedled out of his young relative were sure to be broken immediately, since he knew that Traggen would want revenge for this humiliation. And he could try to pack the boy back off to the country, but he was (technically) a grown man. He could just return to the Capitol whenever he felt like it. This was the end. His heart sinking in his breast, Lord Avhonari accepted the inevitable. He would have to send Z’sharan away for his own safety now. So soon! He had the tremendous urge to boot his nephew in the side for speeding up this whole process, but he wasn’t that petty. He sighed, turning to one of the watching servants.
“Please escort my nephew to his room,” he told the man, who had been far enough away that he had neither seen nor heard what Traggen had, “And bar the door for the night. Let him sleep it off. And you,” he went on to another servant, “Please have my carriage prepared. I have an unexpected journey that I need to make. I want it ready in an hour,” he said as the first servant scooped up the still shell-shocked and unresisting Traggen and dragged him away.
The other servant left to see to his order, and Lord Avhonari turned to his lover. “We have to leave, Z’sharan,” he told the wereleopard regretfully. “Traggen is sure to tell someone about what he saw tonight, and while he was drunk he wasn’t so far gone that he won’t remember what he just saw in the morning. I will take you home tonight.”
The wereleopard stared up at him. “Come with me,” he said again, echoing their earlier conversation.
“I cannot,” the nobleman insisted.
“You can,” Z’sharan rasped. “You are my mate, and a scholar. You do not belong here, living like this. You are miserable, I can see that. Come home with me, and forget your duties. How many years have you carried their burden? It is time to set them down, for you to be free,” the golden eyes held a plea as he lifted a single hand eloquently. “Come home with me,” he said once more. “Don’t leave me to die of loneliness without you.”
Lord Avhonari felt like he’d taken a blow to the chest. He hesitated, but what Z’sharan was offering was something he’d wanted for a long, long time – a way out of this life that he hated. He’d never been happy or felt fulfilled, and if he let Z’sharan go what would happen? He would grow old alone, and would never know any kind of happiness again. And for what? His ungrateful family? The king that took him and his services for granted? Surely he’d carried this burden long enough. Let another take his place. “All right,” he said simply. “I’ll come with you, Z’sharan.”
The wereleopard smiled like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Let’s go!” he said excitedly. “I can’t wait to show you my home.”
Lord Avhonari found himself laughing, feeling more free than he had since he’d inherited and taken up his father’s mantle. He nodded. “I’ll just go and pack,” he told Z’sharan.
The wereleopard tagged after him as he hurried to his bedchamber and began to pack clothes, writing supplies, and toiletries with brisk efficiency. He did a good deal of traveling, and knew how to be ready to go at a moment’s notice if he had to. He slung a leather bag over his shoulder when he was done, and turned to his lover. “I need to go to my study and fetch some things, including the histories of your people,” he said. “I don’t want to leave them here for my successor to read. It wouldn’t be good if the King became aware of your people’s existence in the jungle.”
Z’sharan padded after him once more, and they went to his study. The wereleopard took one of the full satchels from him, showing off his considerable strength. Lord Avhonari left the room with only a small pang, for it was here that he’d been happiest in the past. He and his lover headed for the front courtyard, where the carriage would be waiting for them. The nobleman had taken a considerable amount of gold out of the strong box in his study, so they wouldn’t be without funds for their long journey. They emerged out into the courtyard. The carriage stood ready, the horses pawing at the ground impatiently. Lord Avhonari nodded at his servant. “I do not know how long I’ll be gone,” he told the man, which wasn’t a lie (although he sincerely doubted that he’d ever return to the kingdom), “So when he wakes up tomorrow, would you please tell Traggen that he will be in charge until I come back?”
The servant indicated his assent, although he looked unhappy. Traggen was not popular among the servants. Just wait until they discovered that Lord Avhonari wasn’t coming back, and that Traggen was the most likely candidate to be their new lord and master. Ah well – he was sorry to do this to them, but sometimes personal happiness had to come first. Lord Avhonari pulled open the carriage door and indicated to Z’sharan that he should get inside. The wereleopard clambered up onto the seat and bounced down upon it’s well-sprung surface gleefully. He was happy now that Lord Avhonari had agreed to come home with him. He would be glad to see the last of these human realms, although he’d found his mate here so he couldn’t really complain. Lord Avhonari smiled at his antics even as he climbed into the carriage himself and shut the door. He tapped on the roof, and the driver clucked to the horses. The carriage rolled out of the courtyard, and Lord Avhonari didn’t look back at the place where he’d lived for so long, but that had never really been his home.
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