Fox's Glade be cunning, and full of tricks

the glowing balm of tadec's eyes were upon her; she felt his touch, saw the twinned emotion in his gaze. somewhat dazed, but with her trust growing in the little creature each moment, mona nodded at his soft words. she did not need to be a witch, nor a druid, to have her strength recognized. and what was more, to see in herself the passion of the ones who had come before. swallowing back a new sort of tearfulness, the young mayfair drew a breath that shook only a little.
it was tadec who urged mona to her feet, to cast her gaze about the wood with a renewed verve. she was to lead, and he would follow. did she know magick? the mayfair was not sure, but she was not averse to attempting it. not with such a delighted audience.
"all right," she murmured, her gaze warming with a soft joy. "maybe ... maybe we will see the spirit of the little fox." she held her tonguetip between her teeth, unable to keep from eventually breaking into a grin as she paced forward. would tadec believe her? mona wished to know what he made of her suggestion.