Two kinsmen make an auspicious start to a hunting trip by avoiding their relatives and having sex in tents. (They're very nice tents, though.)
Surely in a world so vast there lie yet stones unturned— slippery things smalled for his spindling fingers to unearth.
An Erebite and a Terror confer over their grievances
He’s done his fair share of fucking up in this line of work, but this might be the worst he’s ever done it.
In a public street, Goodsir gazes at another man with a less-than-scientific eye and gets more than he bargains for.
Mutiny, close quarters, and strange bedfellows.
Old Billy Gibson has an eye for likely prospects.
If Lan Wangji has learned anything from his atonement for Wei Wuxian’s death, it is that patience is neither simple nor shallow.
Too late for Christmas, too early for the new year. (Or, Hal makes himself inconvenient in as many ways as possible.)