Honeyed Pasture sworn before a light of knife's edge white

A light laugh eases out of her, the sound high and foreign. For a moment the rest of her world is blurred, narrowed to one playful, easy moment, a thing she often denies herself. Today it is easy and so she does not question it. "Did I say punishment?" Poet teases him, another laugh stolen as he darts away into the grass. Despite herself she picks herself up and takes after him, disappearing into the golden blades behind him. The grass remains tall and obstinate, his scent woven amongst the stalks barely enough for her to keep on his tail. For now that's fine enough for her, the chase invigorating as she darts forward, hoping to catch him but not minding if it is fruitless at the moment.