The Sentinels an invocation

Her comment brings a fresh smile to his face, although it is a bit more loose, likely because of how excited he was - and nervous - to see the dark man again. Renoir licks his lips as he responds, Repons lan se wi, mwen imajine li sa, and he looks up at the trees as well. The sun beams down between them, catching particles of dust which float in the beams. The trunks are an intense umber where the light hits, while the shadows are narrow yet still warm. He passes by her and is briefly shadowed, then pokes his nose from beneath the dark - Mwen menm enpasyan wè li. It is not the only thing he is impatient for, and that withheld feeling of excitement is probably what makes him sound so childish.