[ That stubborn pride isn't unfamiliar, and for the first time in what feels like a long while, Lucius wonders what it is about sorcery that makes a man think he ought to be lauded for it. It's no different than the stubborn superiority of any one of the Crimson King's sons, and with the thought of taking such pride in so unremarkable a sentiment, amusement turns his grin crooked. ]

And no doubt you'll grow more worthy, in time. [ The compliment is wholly sincere—and so is its backhanded delivery, befitting the cruel affection burgeoning in his chest. Of course, Eridanus can't know he is a kitten bearing his teeth to a lion—but his readiness to do so is certainly cute, regardless. As his clawed thumb slips downward, running its pad along the hollow of Eridanus' throat instead, another purr rumbles through his chest. ] Don't worry, sweet lamb — you'll get what you deserve. It reflects poorly on a man, if he doesn't care well for his pet.

[ His weight sinks. Before long, even through the flimsy barrier of the sheet Eridanus has tried to hold between them, he'll feel the weight and warmth of Lucius' sleek form, sheathed in soft fur and the vibrations emanating from his breast. ]

Then tell me of your accomplishments, little lord.