Northstar Vale with parted lips in fragrancy of prayer: unearth everything that’s in me

“How is it that you make a man ... happy?”
the low enquiry wreathed through the pungent heat of Cuivénen, sending a shiver across the fée's shoulders as she let let the words weigh against the ear of @Kalika. A reprieve from newlywed hours that had since commenced elation's ebbing from her ever-fluttery heart; and though remnants of blush cradled shorn cheeks, she staved her own urgings to balk into cavernwaters, and instead nestled her chin into crook of elbow and gazed with hazy halfsights upon the siren's own features. She would dare to guess, she supposes, what the selkie's answer may very well entail;
and so it was that a private simper pressed the desecrated's mouth to dimple, faintly, faintly. The mannerisms of a nigh-shying vixen:  “Do you ... do to them what you did in our lesson?”
when ze rampage rode me?  but she remains quiet, listening; not having forgotten, at least.