Ravensblood Forest oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place [m]

Her swarthy lover bounded towards her and his large, warm black form was a welcome sight. For a long time Olive had nursed his wounds, licked them clean and applied poultices as advised by the family’s healers.  The healers stopped by the stony grotto every other day to check in on the two, but they never stayed for long and soon Olive was, once again, the only to care for him - but she hadn’t wanted it any other way. It was something truly special to get to know someone via the vulnerability and tenderness that convalescence required. She was utterly smitten with the wolf she had come to know.

It seemed as though he had kept busy during her reprieve, as her prince presented her with a welcome home gift! 

“Oh my,” she breathed. Her eyes glistened with delight as they surveyed the specimen in front of her. “It’s… not of this world.”  It wasn’t an untruth. The stone cracked open sharply to an exhibitionist display of the most beautiful, glittering, translucent pink crystal. It rose and fell in craggy, icy peaks - taking in the sunlight and fracturing it into spectrums. She placed a paw upon it and felt the caress if its energy strong in her thin, cream-colored limb.  The femme knew what this gemstone was; it was  talked about often among naturalist as it is most powerful, yet one of the most accessible  stones. “It’s the fair and lovely rose quartz, I believe,” Olive let the words spill. She brought her entire body to the ground so that she were eye-level with the crystal and stared closely. “Rose Quartz has been said to dissolve emotional wounds, fears and resentments… and circulates a divine loving energy throughout the entire being.” Many wolves did not believe in the spiritual embodiment of non-living objects - but these ideas comforted Olive so. She had taken to surrounding Dakarai with stones and her pretty trinkets during his recovering; he did not show any sign of discomfort from her silly rituals, if he felt them. 

“My king,” the sylph purred. “My gratitude is unending. Not just for this amazing gift, but for…everything.”  Olive had expressed this sentiment to him many, many times, but Olive found it had to contain her affections. “You’ve shown me so many new things, so many things I have never known…"  In one dainty movement, the fae was standing and facing her lovely brute. She reached her neck towards him and licked his nose, relishing how his cool skin felt on her tongue. "...or felt, before.”