Ocean's Breath Plateau shady grove

The question startled a laugh out of him; the flowers fell onto Simbelmyne's sleep-mussed face.

"Everyone is fine," he assured her, nosing the flowers away as he settled near. "They were pretty. They made me think of you."

They were black and yellow — a poor but cheerful echo of her own charcoal and wheat coloration. He would find her something more useful next time, or perhaps just a more lasting trinket. Eventually, he would land on something that brought her joy. In the mean time, he lavished her face with kisses to make up for it — or perhaps just because he was in the mood to make a nuisance of himself, so long as she was in the mood to put up with it.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked her. And then, cheekily, "Did you dream of me?"