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Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.

As she was beginning to doze off as he worked away on her toes, she suddenly felt a quick short tickle on the sole of her foot. She sat up with a start.

Outside, Roc was engaged in the opening battle of the day, fighting against a talented warrior who could use both shield and sword magic. Again and again, he pounced on his foe, trying to smash through his defenses with powerful kicks and punches. However, even while his limbs were wrapped in mana, he could not break through the glowing tower shield the man wielded. With every attack that failed to break through, his enemy would counter with a slash, able to swing his sword with more speed and force than an average warrior could ever hope to achieve. Roc relied on his wings to pull him in and out of danger, but they were all that was keeping him alive, and he was left bloody from numerous close calls.