Hushed Willows as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

✹☾❂

 

Kincaid was funny; silly in a way that wasn’t foolish. Eleuthera was all too happy to listen to the drawl of his voice, appreciating his small jokes here and there. Though Kincaid was certainly older than her, Eleuthera was certain that he was, truly, in his experienced prime. She felt grateful to be with this man at this point in his life, where she might be able to glean a little something from the rich, woven fabric of his life’s tapestry.

“Hahaha, you know? Me too." she had been feeling like this new chapter of her life, the one she had begun only recently, might be her best one yet. Hopefully.

If she liked the sound of Kincaid’s voice when he talked, then she was overly delighted when he began to sing — about love! Was there anything better than a cowboy, crooning about a love that was sweet than wine? If there was, Eleuthera didn’t care. The smile upon her face was radiant, lighting up her entire body in a sheen of being cosseted and cared for. She was a thing made to be loved and appreciated, and she felt it here and now in a way that she had been missing. So what if they scared away any and all possible prey with this singing, laughing and dancing? 

Even when they grabbed something quick from the cache, as they did this evening, it was something that nourished the lilac woman far more than food alone possibly ever could.