Seeds of romance

Though Nerian was silent, Thistle could see the subtle cue’s of someone grieving in a sense. The small shake of her shoulders, the quiet sniff, yes she was crying and Thistle had no clue what to do about it. Because she couldn’t really tell the girl she knew why she was upset, that her husband had denied her, at Thistle’s request. Because frankly Thistle refused to share, and it was simply because one she was selfish when it came to Ragnar and two she had been taught; that true loves stayed with one another they didn’t go cavorting with other’s simply because they found them pleasing to the eye or they were in heat, it simply wasn’t done.

She wouldn’t go find a male to make sweet love to her beneath the stars, simply because she found his form pleasing, she wouldn’t do that betrayal to any, granted she probably wouldn’t find any other man pleasing to the eye, but it was the mere idea of it.

Thistle shifted and sat down to her haunches and spoke softly Nerian are you okay? This little garden is beautiful by the way? Did you bring all my plants from the ridge? She studied the straight rows and the pretty way it was formed, and she saw some new plants that she hadn’t used or planted and it made her smile. Perhaps they would be okay yet maybe.