"Oh-ho! Listen at him! Promises promises, my dear Prince!" Mac laughed, barely wincing when the man dug fingers into his skin. Certainly the Guardian could bruise, though only just for a few moments when it happened, and even then, that required far more dire an injury than the grip of a lover.

When Ilormael moaned and squirmed, Mac knew he'd won. The game was hardly played, but he'd already put the elf's Queen in check, and he knew Uldren would catch it, too. Once you found someone someone liked, it was all too easy to use it against them. Not that they didn't all recognize that as their collective goal, once they had decided to invite the elf into their figurative bed.

"Of course," Mac replied graciously. "Anything you want is yours, you know? This isn't about us taking anything. We're all one another's guests in this instance. Generous hosts aiming to be friends. Ask anything and you should have it," he sighed, leaning against Uldren even as he stroked the youth's ears with gentle fingertips.

"His ears," he reported to Uldren, glancing over his shoulder at the other Awoken. "That's the ticket right there. A little finesse...he moves like a serpent."