Deepwood Weald Black-eyed Susan

Lost? Yes, lost, always lost; she thought of Lestan, but only for a moment. He was not here, with her. Reverie offered a smile for the woman who was, and shook her head, stepping forward to close the last of the distance between them.
There was something intoxicating about being near to her. For the first time Reverie had found a feeling worth comparing to her experiences with Lestan, and she thought that it must be magic. Something like the blooming of a flower or the motion of the sea, inexplicable and wonderful. Feeling bolder than she had in a long time, Reverie drifted as close as she was allowed, seeking now to draw her muzzle alongside the other woman's and press her nose into her cheek.