Moonspear are you up right now?

Her teeth raked gently across his chin; there was no affirmation given on his end—he could handle venison and a kiss. Instead he merely listened as she answered him and continued. He had to admit he had yet to tire of her in any form, least of all her grandeur thoughts. There was a certain conviction in her tone that revealed plenty. These were not jesting notions with little thought. She had considered this before, and clearly considered him in the picture as well.

”Why the hinterlands? Why not a pretty meadow,” he supplied, drifting. ”Or a lush forest set beneath the shade of a mountain such as this?” Or the coast, he thought, as he quite liked that. As much as he inquired to listen to her pick over pros and cons, he made his quiet gestures to guide her all the same. Never show the full hand, never call a bluff without knowing the odds.

”Though I can imagine why on the hinterlands, I've been there before. They are nice,” he went along, pondering the avenue himself. Yet in spite of their regional flair he thought them isolated, not knowing that the isolation was lesser now than it had been some time ago.