Emberflame Ridge in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me

✹☾❂

 

If Eleuthera should have been embarrassed that she had followed the man for quite some time and still mistook him for an entirely different species, then she wasn’t aware of it. Instead, she indulged in a moment of silliness, even though it was entirely unreturned by her stalwart audience. Still, she could feel the currents of his energy which, now that he wasn’t startled, had soothed immensely — and the woman could feel his lingering, wandering eyes.

As she understood it, the man painted with ash and ink (and pollen) could leave whenever he so desired. So, Eleuthera cocked an eyebrow and breathed a sigh as if it truly was he who owed her an apology, and she was relieved to finally have received it. “It’s okay,” she assuaged, a lively wisp of a giggle dancing on her lips. 

But, the lilac lady could not help but desire to coax more words out of him. Not to push him to a place he felt uncomfortable, but to learn more about this obelisk that the fates had thrown into her path. "What’s your name?" she questioned simply, the honey of her voice sliding thickly from her tongue. She just really couldn’t help herself, could she?