Stavanger Bay anymore

"the sentinels," velen answered swiftly, settling on his haunches before dalia. she had always been small to him, much smaller, but now he took in the porcelain delicacy of her little skull, the fragile cheekbones framing the face she tipped to him, her slender forelegs and the gentle curve of her hips where their children surely grew by now.
she was not weak, but he felt in him the flame of the need to protect her from the driving brutality of men. "i was going to lead there, remember? what better time than now?" he asked breathlessly, searching her features.
dalia was a careful sort, and velen did not expect her to take immediately to his suggestion. but he was convinced she would at least consider it — what other choice did they have?