DAEMON
Daemon had returned to the sorry state of affairs that awaited him at the border of the GreenLands.
Marcus Direwolf, his cousin and his third-in-command was barely holding onto the reins of sanity at the camp and Daemon could understand why. Horny werewolves were one thing, horny werewolves that faced the danger of immediate death were entirely another thing.
"We must eliminate those who tried to desert the army." Marcus said, ever his serious and stern self. Daemon liked the man for that. Despite the fact Marcus was just twenty-two, one could hardly notice as he acted way older.
"We should." Daemon casually said, plopping into a seat and massaging his stiff neck and shoulders. His wolf had been growing particularly antsy of lately, and the conclusion Daemon arrived at was that he was in dire need of good sex.
When was the last time he got laid? Four weeks ago? Or was it four months ago?
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