Horizon Ridge xiii. everybody says the world is ending

A soft inhale whistles through her parted lips in surprise, dark little head falling over her shoulder as lavender sought honey. 

He was as intimdating as many of the men of Teekon were: athletic and broad, rippling with toned musculature beneath a peltage of storm and smoke as he mired towards her. Yet, there was something bashful in his amber optics, something softened about his gravel tone that endeared the onyx sylph. 

"It is," she agreed, lilt hushed for fear of disturbing the skittish peace that had settled over them. 

"I'm Rhælla," she offered after a moment, angling a kind smile in his direction, "though some call me Rhæ." 

"Who might you be?" Followed her question - light and vaguely humorous as she grinned at him.