Two Rivers Isle they don't rattle windows or write letters in blood.

He felt something that he had not felt in a very long time. Last time had been the first time. He had learned what the early stirrings of those feelings often blossomed into. Or, well, rather what they had blossomed into.

That one time.

There was a soft worry that began to bubble in his stomach.

That she might leave if he did not act fast enough — or maybe she would leave if he acted too fast!

But this was, at very best, a crush. The start of it. A soft beginning that he did not wish to fumble. Not in this beautiful new paradise he had found!

He dared to reach out, to offer her the same touch she had with him.

Then he held his breath! Unwilling to even engage in another chase just yet. He must know!