Sunbeam Lair singulus

The wind was much like a slap to the face—while the caverns had offered a solitude to the world and perhaps what the roman had taken as a safe space, for there was a shift in his fortitude the moment the fresh autumn air kissed their pelts.

She did not speak much, her own jaws gently clasped about a piece of aloe plant that she also intended to try to grow when she returned. She would need to find it a safe place—warm, but where she could still water it, and it could find sun.

A garden, perhaps. She would finally make herself a home with a garden, and a small den for herb storage… The vale was perfect for such a spot. A haven.

As they drew nearer to Epoch, the silver waif slowed her pace, honeyed eyes seeking him out and looking at him with a certain intent. She hedged, sidling closer, looking to him as her voice softened. For he asked if they could meet again—perhaps he wished another lesson? Or another to lend an ear? But she would not hold her breath that the Imperator would remember much of her after this meeting.

“Is it very tiring being a fortitude of strength and hiding everything you feel from most of the world?” Perhaps it was her curiosity—perhaps the question formed to have him think on it.

Perhaps, the way his eyes pierced her touched her in a way more than she cared to admit, and she was eager to ensure he wouldn’t be so quick to forget their encounter.