Azhren did not slow down as he left the tent. The noise behind him faded once the flap dropped shut. He kept his eyes forward until he reached his chambers.
Draven followed a few steps behind him. Azhren pushed the door of his room without a word. The room was simple and warm. A bed stood at the center of the room. On one side of the wall, there was a table with a few weapons, a large map weighed down with black stones and scrolls. A brazier burned at another side of the wall, casting a faint glow in the room.
The moment the door closed behind them, Draven moved. He grabbed Azhren by the front of his cloak and pulled him close. The force of it made Azhren stumble forward, but he did not resist. Draven kissed him hard.
