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

a flowering, a waterfall of words! and all of it to soothe him! to tell him otherwise, that she would wait to listen, that she had lived through a thousand pressures and a death.
a tear flowed on his cheek, and he drew a shaking breath. it felt like reverie was quite ageless; had he himself even suffered half so much?
he looked at her with radiant love and helpless enchantment; with a blossoming trust and a shock that he could do so, bring trust.
but with her it was easy.
he had nothing to say; his eyes spoke all that lestan could not, tongue-bond and overcome.