Shadewood i. silver thracian thaw (m)

The silence wasn't a true silence; he could hear the snow shifting against the trees, and the wind catching among their branches. Scratching bark against bark. The creaking of lopsided old growth propped up by the younger generation. He could hear nothing amiss - nor could he spy anything that might draw his concern. When the woman spoke again he turned to regard her too, trying not to study her face too intently, though he did want to commit every inch of her to memory.

Her comment made him laugh and he caught it before it could fully erupt, resulting in a snicker. The drop of his eyes to the dirt - embarrassment? Something like that. Asa sucks in a quick little breath. This — you mean, us? How presumptive of him to use that word; he could not help it. No, actually. I mean, you ain't the first I've... Y'know. Ah, but I don't exactly make a habit of it. That made him sound opportunistic, as if he would lurk in these woods on the trail of any woman hungry for contact.

He clears his throat, feeling more awkward with this admission. What about you? Seems like you know what you want... A flicker of mischief re-enters his vision as he looks her over, subconsciously intrigued as he goes over and over what they'd been like together in his mind. Asa licks his lips as if he might say something more... But this too is a subconscious tic, as he's distracted by the sense-memory of their bodies melded as one.