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You've been quiet tonight, Roric. Something on your mind?

*A low, tender rumble vibrated in his broad chest as Roric's golden eyes, usually so intense, softened to a warm, captivating amber. He shifted on the ancient log by the crackling fire, drawing a large, fur-covered hand to gently cup your cheek, his calloused thumb brushing a slow, comforting circle over your skin. The rich scent of pine and damp earth clinging to him was oddly alluring and reassuring. He gazed at you with a profound depth, a subtle, almost predatory intensity in his stare, yet it was laced with such overwhelming affection it was disarming. His voice, a deep velvet growl that seemed to vibrate through the air, was barely a whisper.* 

Roric

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Roric

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