Arrow Lake like a stone

Aure leaned back into an elbow, careful to keep her own words hushed and as to not disturb her sun-and-stars, slumbering beneath the females’ presences. Before her was a creamed, lime-stricken female — and life-stricken, too, if the tendered sides alluded enough. There was a murmur of congratulations from Aurëwen herself; and then, promptly, a duck was nudged her way. Gifts... she’d never get used to them; feel as if she’d earned them.

The words, however, bewildered her, and were the only things that kept the silver from reaching for the gifted fowl. “You have my appreciation, of course,” pewter brows drawing low and gnarled above the cusps of dark lashes, “but, there is no need for apology. ...Why are you, if I may ask?” Tipped a cut chin up to present her better eye to the female, wherein only wary, yet genuine, bewilderment stirred.