Shadowwyn Moor It came gently calling

Though it offered very little more than room. It kept them warmer a tinge than where they had been. The male Turmeric settled next to her, but he gave her space. She appreciated it.

Merry. Merry. She smiled at him. I like it. It.

He studied her again. There was a deep seated knowledge in those evergreen eyes of his. Something that hinted at more than what he appeared to be. Something she could certainly appreciate. He must be a deep thinker.

I have not. Not. How are they like trees? Trees?