Shadowwyn Moor you had your maps drawn

She came forward, a dauntless spear fashioned of the sun, and Rickon's ears fell in immediate compliance to her commanding spirit. Instinct dictated that he let her be in charge here— and it was easy for a guy like him to hand over the reins at will. Life felt better without the weight of responsibility hanging over him like a stormcloud, and with the newly introduced Seraphina at his side, he felt like he had an umbrella.

She mentioned Italian, a concept lost on the inexperienced male, though his tail wagged as she posed him with a question he readily answered. "Rickon, ma'am, but you can call me Rick if'n ya like," he said, bobbing his dark head. "I'm named after my pops, I guess, since I'm a junior an' all... but he never got 'round to tellin' me where the name comes from or anythin'," he added in a very sad attempt to relate to her. He didn't know why, but everything in him said he would do almost anything to impress and obey this lady.