The Sentinels bal du moulin de la galette

the boy faltered and flushed, and lasher was charmed by this. when the shy eyes rose again, taltos met them and nodded. renoir spoke of donnelaith, and the druid would agree, for though the wood was stripped of green and no grass remained, the cliffs that dropped steeply down in rolling ridges to the very sea were as fierce and wild as they had been before, and the stark red of the giant trees remained as a beacon for those needing succor.

he wondered why the gilded little hind of a wolf had turned his words aside, but perhaps he was not used to having his beauty complimented. not all were as open as lasher was, and he laughed a little at that. "beau, comme le sont ceux qui vivent dans cette forêt," he rejoined, and here his voice took only a gently teasing tone. 

but his gaze did not lie -- in his gaze lay an invitation; renoir needed only to accept.