Firefly Glen raindrops on my window sill

Tuathal drew his head away, when the stranger's warm breath clicked a measure from his cheek. "Do you now?" His mouth pressed into a crooked smile, but the softest measure of sorrow sank through his eyes. If she were only a few shades brighter, and a few relations closer, she could have been Ceara, but the feeling was fleeting.

"S'long as you know what you're gettin' yourself into," he said with a casual lift of his brow. "Why don't you choose your direction first? I've already been sniffing, I'd hate to have a head start," his smile teased.