Lohen didn't leave immediately. He stood there, his gaze like a bottomless pit fixed on the man, before spitting out the mouthful of semen. He slowly approached the half-conscious Varka and pressed his lips against the Grand Master's.
"I’m... alright now. Thank you..." Varka forced the words out, his voice still trembling.
He clenched his fists, tasting the bitter dregs of defeat. His eyelids grew heavy, letting sleep wash over him.
The roar of the highland wind outside the yurt seemed to fade, replaced by the thundering rush of blood in Varka’s ears. He slumped onto the fur rug, back pressed against the central pillar, his hands gripping his knees so hard they trembled.