Cricket Creek Bog if lies were cats you'd be a litter

okay, the trepidatious sylph breathed. the heebie-jeebies was all he had to give--the unfortunate end product of a life up until this point, lived in violate and isolated milieu. "you are so kind to me." he encouraged, eyes tracking her as she doddered backwards and appeared to strew the rimy underfooting for something to pry the burden from his neck.
he kept advancing on her stumbling, flustered figure. she suddenly turned from him, dispossessing herself of his gaze, and scurried towards the moldered pillar of a spruce tree. "i'm sorry, this memory of mine--what was your name again? i'm sal." he spoke placidly, trying to coax her back into his proximity by disclosing something distinguishable--something they had in common. surely, she had a name. he'd just forgotten it.