Famor hummed, dragging the mortal maiden closer. So warm, these women. It wasn't often he managed to convince his captive to rest next to him, before Sir Farrara came and took them away, but whenever he managed, a peace would always wash over him.

Calming. Soft. Warm. Though they may not be fae, and always leave him, a part of him would always stay in this moment with them.

Such warm creatures.

It always brought a smile to his face, when he returned to the now after having spent the night in meditation. This mortal custom, he's grown quite used to.

He squishes the mortal closer to himself, enjoying their presence. Hm.

However, this one smelt quite a lot like…

"Bleeding! Mortal, you're-" he bolts upright in panic, checking over the mortal when he reorientates himself to the sight that greets him. The mortal from yesterday. The one who'd killed him.

The one who'd brought him back.

The one who'd complained and kidnapped him, and was now sleeping next to him wearing only it's under garments.