<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Conri</strong><br/><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>With the knowledge that humans were often slower at coming to terms with such heavy decisions, Conri waited, still crouched; once again a figure of patience.  Not once did his weight shift, or a muscle so much as twitch to indicate life.  The ancient fae had become unnaturally still as he waited the final answer, and the very wood around them seemed to hold its breath.  He didn’t care what the man decided, as there would be plenty of entertainment for him, regardless.  Mind games or entrails, it was all the same in the end.  Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind a bit of violence to counteract the gentle nature he’d adopted for Liadian’s sake.  He had needs, too.<br/><br/>After a span, the man decided.<br/><br/>Upon the last word spoken, the air around them became heavier, and there was a shift through the trees that had nothing to do with the wind.  The boughs above them creaked ominously, as if they were cackling over some secret only they knew, and the dead leaves slapped together in applause.  The atmosphere was oppressive, and could rob the air from lungs if one wasn’t prepared.  Conri rose, unaffected by the change, and by the time he was standing at his full height, the weight in the air had dissipated, and the forest quieted.  “You have given your word, human, just as your blood has dripped upon my ground, and the forest has been my witness.”  As he spoke, the vine around the neck loosened, and fell away to become just as ordinary as it once was.<br/><br/>“Know this,” he stepped toward him, taking the man by the arm and hauling him to his feet, “the forest has tasted you.  If you go against your word, you will be punished.”  The vines circling his limbs readjusted so it was only his wrists tied behind his back, enabling him to walk on his own when the time came.  Conri eyed his captive once last time, wearing a menacing grin that was wide enough to show his sharp canines, then turned to finally acknowledge his apprentice.<br/><br/>Clawed fingers traced gently along her jaw before sinking into her hair, and he tilted her head back to gaze into her eyes, his own still the luminous, bright amber that was the after effect of his anger.  “The dining table is not the only thing to partake,<em>Asthore,</em>” he bent his head to kiss her, dark hair falling against her neck as he did.  He kept it chaste, though the intention behind it wasn’t quite so.  She was willing, he could feel it, and it left him wanting as well.  Always.  It was also an open claim.  She was<em>his</em>, and the man would do best to know that.<br/><br/>“Come,” he instructed, gently pulling away from her and setting a hand on the man’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t bolt… not that he’d get very far.  His other hand reached for Liadian in offering should she wish to hold it.  “Let us dine together in celebration.”  His subsequent laughter was like a caress of velvet against bare flesh, and echoed through the forest in wicked triumph.