Blacktail Deer Plateau Romance and awkwardness.

It was warm that day and Olive felt light and upbeat in the first time in a long time. There had been so much sadness in her recent existence, punctuated with brief periods of the most supreme happiness [those instances being, of course, her appointment as red herring, her eternal mateship to Dakarai and the conception of their children] that it felt nice for things to just be. Of course, it was all a façade; for inside her corporeality the fae withered and crumbled every single day that she awoke to a stranger.

However, today the sun was warm upon her satin, ashen pelt.  For the first time in a long time they exited the thick woodedness of their arboreal shelter and found a bed of soft grass to hunker down in. The ground held but the slightest bit of the winter storm and the pair experienced a divine sense of relaxation and looseness. Olive worked at keeping her troubles and woes in the backmost corner of her mind and appreciate this moment what it was.

Olive stretched upon the ground, surrendering to a well-deserved hibernation when Dakarai cajoled her awake with the slightest press of his paw into her virile belly. Had the dark knight not clarified through touch, Olive might have misunderstood his words as a matter of her heart. This was a she mused upon often lately. Had she felt anything yet, within her heart? Her mate [what was at the same time not her mate] stood before her, letting slip all that they had but trying so hard not to – oh yes, she felt a lot of things about this. Pain. Anger. Sadness. Despondence. Olive had pledged herself to him in life and death, body and soul, in sickness and in health. Never would she break that vow; especially not to the man once who risked everything to be with her. Yes, there was still love [her love for his was what kept her there, facing heartbreak day after day, day in and day out] there but there was no passion, no fire. 

“No…” the woman murmured as her eyelids split to reveal green eyes, sparkling like two finely-cut peridote adornments. She pushed herself up on her elbow and ran her tongue over the black toes that caressed her belly. The woman was not yet showing her pregnancy and her stomach maintained its natural slope towards her spine, the lithe muscles sculpted against her form yet soft to the touch: there was not much to see there. “They’re just little nothings in there right now,” but she knew they were not little nothings. In fact they were very big something, keeping her gut busy as work and Olive rode those waves of nausea and queasiness quite often. This had been an unanticipated part of pregnancy and though it displeased Olive to experience it so often, she believed she kept her morning sickness well hidden from Dakarai. He did not need to worry about anything but his own recovery. "But, soon i'll be big and fat and you won't let me follow you around anymore!" she grinned sheepishly at her attempt to poke fun at the situation, no matter how devastating it was.