Flycatcher Downs godling

Rosemallow offered a smile at his offer. Your home. She mused softly aloud. Are they your brood? Should I expect an angry partner for me complimenting you in these meadows? While the teasing tones of her words seemed less, it was obvious she was not horribly worried. There was no feminine perfume that clung to him. Alas, if it was his home surely it might be his children as well?

Her ears leaned forward to show her interest, sea foam eyes sparkling with something brilliant. His offer was rather enticing. Rosemallow was not a creature who was use to a lonely way of life. Nor did she intend on being alone so often to make a life out of.