Northstar Vale You're just like your father.

WELL SAGHANI  

 
It was strange with him. Strange and wonderful. She was on the precipice of discovering something. Then and there, she wanted to discover it with him. Saghani felt for this one. Had from the moment she had seen him. Felt it then and there. But the feeling frightened her, some. It had come unexpectedly, out of nowhere. It had come to her in the woods, with their bent backs and their bowed boughs. She could feel her heart in her throat as he slid up the square of her back, and she willed him to, willed him to seal them together—

but he slid away, and Saghani's ears melted atop her head meekly, for a confused moment. He had fallen, but Saghani wondered at herself, at what she was doing, if this was the smart thing, the best thing. To look at him was to know, and she did look at him; she saw the right thing. But she was young and misguided and mistook her heart for weakness, him for weakness. Saghani let him catch her, brought him to her, and moved to kiss him a thousand times over thinking, let me be weak, let me, this once, for a moment. Without reason, inexplicably, Saghani loved him, had loved him from the moment she saw him. His soul called to hers. Each element brought her nearer to him. The fire of his touch. The liquid of their forms melding to one another. The wind urging her closer. The earth rooting her— 

And then the fierce Saghani turned to try and go, and fled from it at once, needing to think, needing space, needing a moment where she wasn't reeling and where she was strong and where she understood. Without question, Saghani believed she would return to him, and although she had always been told to never look back, she did.