The Nun's Lustful Desire
I keep walking because if I stop, I don’t know what I’ll do with my hands.
By the time we reach Veyra, the streets are overflowing with celebration.
Veyra is alive with light and noise. Magic glows from every corner. Voices fill the air as demons, witches, vampires, and every kind of supernatural crowd the streets.
Lanterns sway above stalls selling roasted chestnuts and mulled wine. I pass a male wolf pressing a female vampire against a cold stone wall. His large hands are cupping her breasts, squeezing them hard through her thin dress. They aren't mated—you can tell by the hungry, desperate and unconnected way they are kissing—but in the name of the celebration, it's allowed.