Jade Fern Grove bonito bosque

Gunnar was still a man, and was not usually privy to an inner working of a femme. Had he known she wanted a lesson, perhaps he could have taught. But he felt she was simply showing gratitude the only way she knew how and it didn't sit well with him to trade such a thing.

Her fur brushed his and he turned kind masked eyes towards her.

He chuckled. Of sorts I suppose. My parents had a love like the stories you hear of. The warrior and the damsel, though mother was not without a spirit of wild. And when my father died. My mother never took another. She was three when he passed and ten when she passed. She returned here to die upon his grave, because it was her time. I accompanied her.

Gunnar thought fondly of his parents. Though there was some issues there, his parents love had been all encompassing, toxic and romantic all at once. But how could you explain this.