[i]Early morning, 23rd of Last Seed, 4E08
The Bright Glass, Anvil[/i]

The first thing Gregor became aware of when he woke up was Raelynn’s soft breathing. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself only inches away from her face. The night before came back to him when he saw that her cheeks were still red and her throat was still bruised. “Shit,” Gregor whispered to himself and rolled over onto his back which promptly caused him to wince; he had momentarily forgotten the long, raw scratches that Raelynn’s nails had left down his spine. He buried his face in his hands. Half a bottle of wine? What had he been thinking? Gregor never drank that much, and while he was resilient in many other areas, he was a bit of a lightweight when it came to alcohol. And he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday. That only made matters worse. He remembered what he’d whispered in Raelynn’s ear and sighed. It was vague, fortunately, to say that the gods hated him, and he and Raelynn had been far too busy with each other’s bodies after that to talk. His secrets were safe, but the risk he had taken was unacceptable. Still… he looked over at Raelynn and watched her face for a bit. She really was beautiful, and it had been [i]immensely[/i] enjoyable. Gregor had been a tender lover before he left home but he had changed a lot since then, so it had felt beyond satisfying to let his dark side come out to play like this. And Raelynn hadn’t recoiled when he told her he wasn’t exactly a saint. Hell, that had been an aphrodisiac, if anything. 

As quietly as he could, Gregor slipped out of bed. He was stark naked -- his clothes were scattered around the room, as were Raelynn’s -- so he took a moment to check himself for any other injuries and saw that his chest was scratched up too. He felt his own throat with his fingers and frowned. Were those… bite marks? Either way, nothing a little Restoration magic wouldn’t fix. He paused. Curiosity got the better of him as Gregor tiptoed over to Raelynn’s side of the bed and gingerly lifted up the covers to admire his own handiwork. “Oof,” he mumbled. [i]You animal,[/i] he thought to himself, only half-admonishingly. His gaze lingered on Raelynn’s body far too long for modesty and he resisted the temptation to wake her up and continue where they left off. He had to stay focused; this kind of dynamic wasn’t healthy. Gregor put the covers back and set about to getting dressed. He had to retrieve his breeches from beneath a pile of wooden slats that he recognized as having been one of the two chairs in the room. 

After he was dressed he looked at Raelynn one more time. Asleep beneath the covers like this she strongly reminded him of Briar and a familiar pang of guilt shot through his heart. This wasn’t the first time he had been unfaithful since he had left. It seemed that the scene of his departure, him looking down at her sleeping form, was doomed to repeat itself with another woman every so often, though he had to admit that all the injuries and destroyed furniture were new. Gregor grabbed his swords and silently made his way downstairs, boots in hand, and retrieved his belongings from the same server he had handed them to the night before -- the boy looked spectacularly awkward, and Gregor gave him a few extra coins for the trouble. He paid for the room at the Imperial proprietor and asked him in a low tone if he would kindly avoid waking up the woman in the room for now, and he agreed. Having slipped into his armor and refastened his armaments, Gregor straightened up, squared his shoulders and left.