[ How nature suddenly blooms around her quite literally takes his breath away. For a moment, his heady daze is broken in his awe. That is genuine--he has never seen a druid in action before, and it's beautiful, he thinks. One who can bring life like this to the world is a treasure; unlike he, who has only dealt with death.
She is a treasure.
Trahearne is not much in his right mind either. His love has never blossomed to fruition like this in the span of a single day. It's typically a tough nut to crack, often bound by the shackles of doubt and self-effacement, set to a road of slow acceptance and action. At least, that's how it's been with Syrlya.
Part of him knows he should acknowledge that thought, but that part of him quickly melts away when he presses their lips together once more, more forcefully, with more purpose this time. He tastes her as the arm around her waist loosens, drifting to the soft fabric of her skirt. His fingers tangle in it, bunching and moving it to the side as he makes his way to her thigh. At this point his skin is sufficiently warmed by her own body heat, and his fingers press curiously into the soft flesh. ]
no subject
She is a treasure.
Trahearne is not much in his right mind either. His love has never blossomed to fruition like this in the span of a single day. It's typically a tough nut to crack, often bound by the shackles of doubt and self-effacement, set to a road of slow acceptance and action. At least, that's how it's been with Syrlya.
Part of him knows he should acknowledge that thought, but that part of him quickly melts away when he presses their lips together once more, more forcefully, with more purpose this time. He tastes her as the arm around her waist loosens, drifting to the soft fabric of her skirt. His fingers tangle in it, bunching and moving it to the side as he makes his way to her thigh. At this point his skin is sufficiently warmed by her own body heat, and his fingers press curiously into the soft flesh. ]