Bramblepoint these scars long have yearned for your tender caress

The moment he locks onto her is instant and she can feel it to her core. Her ears droop back and she doesn’t allow herself to move except the slight in and exhale. He crosses the distance between them like a force of nature she’s never seen and she worries she needs to brace herself for impact. The grip on her flower stems loosen and it doesn’t register at first he’s asked about them, dropping them from her mouth and opening her jaws to speak. Nothing remains in her control and she isn’t even sure how she’s operating.

“They will not fill the hole in your stomach,” she tells him smoothly, “but they could of your soul.”

Her mouth snaps back together at the sound of another and she freezes, swiveling one ear backward, followed by a deadly glare over her shoulder.