Before becoming a fixture here, Feurian was a ranger. An elite warrior protecting the outskirts of his forest home from all intruders, human and monster alike. It shows in the powerful, toned muscle moving beneath those robes.

There once was a time when Feurian felt shame for falling so far. Tricked and captured by a mere human! Forced into acts he once thought unspeakable. Now? Well, as stated, Feurian's a fixture. He's Nagare's right hand. He's Nagare's favorite. Does any of that mean he doesn't work like the rest of the residents? Not at all. Feurian has his own following of devoted clients that he services regularly before turning around to pay the same care and attention to his master.

Since neither of them wish to dance around the reason for Feurian's visit, the elf simply chuckles as he closes the distance. Stopping just in front of Vena, he practically looms over the incubus with all his height. He tilts his head to peer down at that sultry creature, eyes moving with a nearly physical weight over the barely concealed planes and angles of Vena's body. Ah, deep in the back of his mind he wishes he could give this stunning creature a different experience than he must usually get. How he wishes the desire didn't burn so hot it made him feel feverish and muddles his thoughts before even their first touch.

Alas, he's never been a match for Vala either. It's enough to stop when his legs bump the chair Vena is sitting so ridiculously in. It's enough to stoop just a little to trail his fingers over that tempting leg.

"My dear friend, giving in is all we do here."