Qeya River Clover leaves and dandelions

There was a warmth in her words which he assumed had come from time spent in such a place- though he found it hard to imagine that a desert could be hospitable enough to earn such admiration. He decided he must not know enough to make such assumptions- he didn’t doubt Silvertongue’s judgement. Somewhere within the arid desert, there must have been something quite beautiful. 

Surprisingly, though, she didn’t seem perturbed by his penchant for killing sheep, even when the risk was so high. He sat back slightly, lips relaxing as he blinked at her. ”My family didn’t feel the same,” He said with a brittle chuckle, and a sheepish shrug of one shoulder. He was quiet for a moment; his family…Wherever they were now. 

He wasn’t quite as deft at conversation as she- who could both sun herself, relax, and talk seemingly without much premeditation. ”How’ve you and Wren been doing since you had your kids?” He asked. He’d heard, once, that it was important to ask mothers how they were doing, rather than just placing all the attention on the kids, though he was tempted to ask of them first.