So there he was, wading through the slushy snow that coated this wide open space. A meadow perhaps? An orchard of bare trees? Ah fuck it, he didn't care. As charming as this land seemed to be with its myriad of landscapes, it wasn't why he was here. As stated before, he was no tourist. Savion, like most Selwyns, never did anything without a solid reason or a worthy purpose. Call him a fool for coming all this way if you must, but he'd always been the practical sort. He always preferred to get his hands dirty, rather than sit and watch from the sidelines. Unlike a certain brother of his.The fate of the Selwyn name counted on it and he'd be a lazy fucking son'ofa bitch if he sent one of his lackeys to do the job for him.
He was both eager and willing, yeah. But that didn't exactly mean The Comedian was in a rush. Spring was on the horizon and the alluring call of the breeding season lingered in the air like bird song, igniting his senses and distracting him from his mission. What'd be the harm in delaying it a little? Savion was a man of unprecedented charm and charisma and oh boy did he love the ladies- and men- so it wasn't as if he was going to let the season pass him by without sampling some of the ripe fruit. Really, it was only a matter of finding a select individual, one he could woo and have his way with, before tossing them to the side like a bone stripped of flesh.
But if he truly wanted some company then his current state of appearance just wouldn't do, now would it? It weren't real civilised to wander around with a coat sticky and dry with blood. Not his own, of course, but anyone with a mind would ask questions and as much of a conversationalist as Savion was, he didn't want to talk about that. It was all in the past, washed down the river.So with that in mind, Savion dropped to the floor and rolled around in the snow, legs flailing in the air as he washed off the stains and made himself a little more presentable. Weren't he such a gentleman?