Neverwinter Forest holy water running dry

He reacted as she had, and she could find no fault in it; Hydra's notched ear flicked, and she heard his voice over the din of the pouring rain that thudded recklessly against the canopy of leaves above them. He moved nearer to her as he spoke, and Hydra's eyes did not remove themselves from him as he came closer and closer still. He was a sight, even for eyes that were not sore; Hydra had always found him attractive, and her interest in him had not been a mystery a knave like Dirge could not solve.

Want to deny it though she did, she felt that similar burn—she warred with it. Hydra knew she was enough, more than that—but she had not been for him, and it frustrated her to know this. Hydra liked to believe that if she had really wanted to, maybe she could have asked him to stay a while longer, and maybe he would have, for her and for her alone—and he had, even without her asking, for her to settle things before their impromptu vacation.. but inevitably, he would have wanted to go.

Though he never had said for how long. And she realized that question pressed against her teeth, her tongue holding it there. His compliments were rewarded with a chaste smile, and knowing eyes—the sort only a groomed princess could give, one that exhibited the innocence she still held intact and yet the desire that rest just beneath the surface. Was it her heart that thundered so, or the skies?

He flirted, and Hydra would not resist temptation to flirt back: are you coming home to me at last, Dirge? She inquired, her smile growing. Had his wandering heart begun to beat for more than just the views outside of his present reach?