Jade Fern Grove at the trial of god, we will ask:

the chuff pulls skylla's attention away from the stream; ears roving atop his skull and gaze seeking and then settling upon the pale sylph. water drips from his chin for a moment, before his salmon pink tongue drawls across his jowls to collect last lingering droplets. she is young, he wagers, with a color of eyes that intrigues him. he thinks they are a shade of purple but from the distance between them they might've been dark blue.

hello. skylla offers, shifting his body to face her in full.