Ravenshook Cliffs kind of mood that you wish you could sell

velen was not sure of what he felt as his touch brushed dalia — a budding warmth of sorts, a shyness. had he ever been so close to a girl before? the mayfair-cairn could not recall. his chestnut gaze met her own and then the dredge looked away, back to the sea and the pillar of strength he found in its crashing.
it was too soon to tell, perhaps, but velen wondered if ford had already fixed dalia with one of his implacable stares. it was not envy budding in his chest, but desire — to have the same one day, whatever continued the brief blossom their moment had engendered. "you can build whatever you like here," the boy declared gently, and then laughed for the sheer sensation of it. "i'm going to build a fort. no girls allowed," he teased, tongue lolling as he turned to observe dalia again, hoping in some small way she would allow herself to be steered from the awkward spur they found themselves on.