Duck Lake No one dies from love; guess I'll be the first

"death? for love?" he cradled reverie, her shoulders, her paws; his brow knitted because he could not understand. "for such joy? we are not in the gilded sea," lestan told her fiercely, bidding her listen and heed. "you are here, with me, beside a lake in the teekon wilds, where you and i are free to love each other in any way we want."
his lips curved in a grin now. "on the golden lake, each year we had a festival of fire, when the sun was hottest and moon was most full. a day of dancing. a night of love, with whomever you pleased, with as many as you wanted. it was our time to love, like this one was for you and i, reverie."