Hideaway Strath your kiss is the jackal among the tombs

His curiosity was adorable, not dumb, and Chusi giggled. Honestly, she didn't know exactly herself - it sounded like bugs, and bugs were small and fun. Bugs, I guess - like cat'rpillars  tha' becom' b'tterflies. She replied, her answer fairly thought-out. She was the butterfly of the coast - had grown in the title and had claimed it her own. Now it was Roarke who would grow up to be a butterfly, if he wanted to. Ya like 'em? She asked then. Her silent message was that she was asking of he liked her, but she didn't say that. He'd understand someday.

She smiled back at him and rolled gracefully up to her feet when he removed his white coat from her coal one. A cold spot on her body was all that was left of his comfort, but she knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd snuggle up against her - or, at least, she hoped so. Perhaps he'd grow out of that phase too quickly for her liking, but she tried not to think about how fast time was speeding by them. As much as ya can take. I'll make sure we'll all 'ave 'nough fur dinn'r. She said with a fond look.