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You hesitate, voice gentle. “So…is this basically…like a rut or something?”
Kyryll stills, then exhales slowly against your skin. His laugh is quiet, resigned—the sound of a man who has given up on maintaining dignity. “If you insist on using such a barbaric term, then yes,” he murmurs, voice low and rueful. “It is something akin to that.”
OR: Flins is not human, and his non human form happens to come with a rather interesting condition
