north of the falls which misted the central valley, a lake fed the glittering qeya. the trek to get there was no easy task — getting anywhere this side of the territory was like pulling teeth — but it was a rewarding one. picturesque snow-capped hills even in the dead of summer, a shallow, rocky beach where one could laze. meet me there at sundown, wren had said to @Silvertongue with a suggestive nip to her shoulder; we've got plans.
along the bank of the shore laid venison heart, fresh berries plucked from the meadow, and a rather unimpressive array of wildflowers in the loose shape of a bouquet. it was a display that would have probably been laughable to most, but it was earnest, and so wren waited with ever rising anticipation; a hopeful, excited look in her eyes that mirrored childlike wonder.