Northstar Vale Yioí

His eyes were glacial—in many ways, they could have reminded Meadow of Reyson, though her beau’s held a certain something when he looked upon her— vaguely, she wondered if Arsenio’s own melted equally when he looked upon his Tamar. 

Her muzzle chanted lightly at his request, offering a dip of her head in understanding as she sidled closer to him, her own gaze moving to look out over Epoch as he had done only seconds before she had interrupted. If I’m interrupting I can go, she offered, knowing all too well sometimes the desire for silence to consider emotions and thoughts.