[spoiler]Just a little something hehe[/spoiler] Page 142      It's hard to sleep. Eliksni work on the city no matter the time. Constant clacking and banging and their husky language vibrating off the cold metal walls, ether pipes hissing and...      Shadow rolls over in bed and is not surprised to meet Variks's very awake, glowing eyes.      "You cannot sleep."      "No." Sending a dim light flickering to life overhead, she sighs, sitting up.      Variks's eyes trace over her ethereal figure.      "I suppose we should be glad," she relents grudgingly. "They sure make good progress fast. I guess that's the benefit of four hands..." She trails off awkwardly.      Her words do not stop Variks's remaining two hands from wandering, caressing her skin. The scribe hums faintly in reply. "Benefits I no longer have the privilege to know," he burbles wistfully.      With a soft, teasing smirk, she faces him. "You can benefit with just two."      The scribe takes a long, deep breath, drawing in her scent. He brings her closer to him, feigning innocence. "Forgive me, but... I feel I will require a demonstration..."      The hunter is all to happy to oblige, boldly holding his gaze while she guides his hands over her soft ivory skin.      His fingers delicately trace over the mesmerizing swirls of light beneath her flesh.      If his anatomy allowed it, he's sure his face would be as red as hers is right now—     "Shadow!" The rough bark of a guard echos into their room.      The door is snapped open with no regard for privacy.      A thoroughly startled Shadow turns to face the vandal, heart thrumming in her chest.      "Fetch your charge!" he snarls, brandishing his spear at her. "You are responsible for the fires she is starting!"      "Traveler damnit-!"      This is the third night Irelekh King had kept Shadow from Variks's bed.      Privately, she wonders if taking on this challenge was too much for her to handle, and if she would ever manage to mend Irelekh's deep rooted wounds.      Perhaps she was just as lost as the scorn.      The hunter, swearing under her breath, grasps for the clothing nearest to her. She promptly storms out of the room, leaving a frustrated Variks to sort things out for himself.