Kruz'Iik chuckled at her suggestion, and the entire meadow world began to disassemble itself, as Kruz'Iik reconstructed the pocket dimension using nothing but his mind. They stood in a white void for a brief moment of time, before a fine wooden floor appeared below them. Kruz'Iik's throne retained its general shape, but became a fine high-backed armchair. Walls came up on the side, adorned with windows draped in the most magnificient of fabrics and golden candle sconces that burned brightly. Then came the ceiling, and finally, outside the window, the white void was replaced with a breathtaking view of, surprisingly enough, Uthlyn at night. The furniture appeared out of the ground, Kruz'Iik silently materializing and putting together particles to form exquisite table, chairs, a bed with silken sheets, and even a bowl of fresh fruit.
Once the room was completed he returned his attention to Zharhee, who he must admit, was licking the side of his neck quite irresistably. He now had to actively contain himself, although he was quite capable of doing that. His hands moved from her hips and onto her thighs, where they rubbed the scales. His touch gained a sort of electrifying quality, causing the flesh his hands fell upon to buzz with warmth. "Tell me...do you think you can win this battle as well?" He oozed into her ear, this time the sound actually coming from his mouth. Unlike his smooth mental voice, this voice was rough, yet soft on the ears at the same time.
