Deepwood Weald [m] aloe vera

shame.

he was drenched in it, the look on his face awfully pensive for a man who had found a slice of heaven on earth.

had he lost heaven beyond earth for that piece of it here?

whatever he had given her had been taken straight from his spirit, his very essence. while his words may have rung in her ears, he heard nothing. as if he was not here at all. even as they remained near one another in these moments after.

he wished to leave.

he wished to turn back time.

instead, he hoped to delicately preen the furs he had ruffled on her, if she would so much allow. a soft tune hummed in the back of his throat. a hymn. did he even have a place to sing such now?