Sunbeam Lair Never Be Broken

He spoke of it—a place of whimsy, it almost seemed, and she felt her eyes widening by the end. And then—not to laugh at his unease, surely!—but a small laugh escaped her, coursing through her and probably lightly shaking against him before she buried her face to his back, trying to control the snicker.

“Sorry,” she finally surfaced, clearing her throat. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at me.” She tilted her muzzle to better study his face, hoping her outburst hadn’t offended him when he finally began to open up to her. “I just… Naive Meadow, was essentially my nickname over the years. Lítið dádýr—little deer, more aptly. I was just here thinking I’ve seen most things, but I’ve never…. Heard of or seen quite a place like that.” Solpallur’s little bambi, it seemed… The thought was sobering.

She paused, feeling the corners of her mouth downturn once more at the thought of him within the confinement of those walls for a month on end—her mind refusing to consider the debauchery he would be subject to. Did the lonely life of a solider lead to the warm arms of a willing servant?

“And Akashingo is important to Mereo?”