The warlock didn't need to be ordered twice, his cries muffled only because he had ducked his head against Uldren when the man bit him. It was all part of the strange relationship they shared, the cost of courting the Prince of Crows. It wasn't too high a prince for Mac, who was hardier than most by far, particularly when the reward was so worth it.

He came - quick, brief - gasping for breath and squirming against the other Awoken as he pumped the man harder and faster, knowing there were penalties for not finishing what he started. He needed them both done so he could clean any mess and recover before the elf returned. If he returned. Neither man could know that the hunter had made his way back to camp shortly after leaving, taking his time on the outskirts out of sight because he wanted to see if the two men were liars. He hadn't expect the show he got at all, though he wasn't disappointed.

It certainly wasn't anything he could tell anyone back with the clan, of course. That kind of violent shared passion was extremely private and he felt guilty for even watching, let alone envying it. He had no taste for the ferocious behavior, but the desire the two strangers had for each other was inspirational. Taht said, Ilormael was grateful that they took the time they did. It gave him the freedom to take care of himself as well, silently climaxing out in the rain, hidden among the brambles.

When Mac and Uldren were finally cleaned up and put to rights, the elf sauntered up as though nothing ever happened, tossing a rabbit next to the fire and gesturing that it would be dinner.

Fair payment, he supposed, for a good show.