There was no fussing about the mark that Gladio was working into his skin. Not when it made the were in him happy to bear his mate's mark and the human side not worried about anyone else seeing it. Out here, there was no proper or improper. All there was was what they wanted and right then, Ignis was wavering on what he wanted.

He was hungry, but that damned mouth on his skin made him hungry in another way. Rumbling his approval, he let his hands glide along Gladio's arms, clearly liking the way all that skin felt under his fingers.

"A campfire might be good."

Even as he spoke, his hands kept mapping out Gladio's skin, fingers lingering along a scar. He clearly didn't want to let him go just yet.