Blackfeather Woods your beauty makes them weak

<3

she was not ready for his voice, for the steady, mature tones that hardly fit his youth. but he was not an ordinary man, relmyna knew — his bearing was that of a male twice his age, his proud ruff silvered not with age but the touch cold lands. perhaps at one time she had known the same — small memories here and there of her younger self with another name, racing delightedly in the snow.
a tell-tale warning snap of pain blossomed into a dull throb within her skull, and the listener drew her thoughts away from the past with alacrity. gathering herself, relmyna approached wintersbane, semi-aware of how the feather moved along her cheek but focused on him for the present. you did not. 
there had been something else in the ice-sky gaze — she recalled how the dark man in the grasslands beyond blackfeather had too looked at her, and some timid nature she did not before recall having now bled through into her heart. a smile played indolently at the edge of her mouth; she lowered her muzzle to hide it, sweeping the ground in a reverent bow before the altar.
do they call to you also, wintersbane? she inquired, turning the syllables of his name over in her mind. a cold name for a beast who could surely bear the same frigid nature, were it not for the haunting quest of his intelligent gaze. words evaded relmyna; she fought the urge to glance at him again and lifted her chin with a look to the darkened heavens. 
they speak so much sometimes i do not sleep, she admitted, and this time she did look at the darkfurred man, noting how his moon-stippled hackles faded into the deep black veldt of his pelt, sheened in a night's blue.