Joren kissed the whitish scar on the back of the green-skinned knee, making his diminutive goblin wife giggle. “And this one?”
“I can barely remember,” Vexation said, flipping her loose blond hair from her eyes. “I think it was from some asshole raider back in Urthhaut.”
Both Vexation and her human husband were naked in their group’s makeshift shelter tent, which projected from one side of their small travel wagon. A small hooded lantern glowed warmly in the corner, its flame set low. Hemlock and Black Ember were on guard duty on the perimeter of the caravan’s encampment, and Stiletto was off on a romantic liaison with her new beau. They had the tent to themselves for the evening, and planned to make the most of the rare event.
The tall tawny-haired male kissed his way up to her round emerald rear, licking along another line of off-white. “This one?” he asked.
She cooed at the feel of his hot tongue. “That was from that wolf attack I told you about. One of its claws.”
Joren turned her partially over, kissing at a wide puncture mark on her side just over her hip. “This looks like it was nasty.”