Hushed Willows But damn girl, since you've come around

Her embrace was gentle, but unexpected, and at first contact, the man stiffened almost painfully—disconnected a moment as confusion swept through him—and then a rugged arm would lift, wrapping gingerly across her own side as he relaxed into the hug. She smelled faintly of mothers milk and whatever herbs she had probably worked on Mae with.

He might have leaned in further—but the idea of what his own breath likely smelled like in this moment gave him pause and wisely he did not—why burden her with sour breath on top of everything else he already had?

“It is,” he responded, pulling back now and shifting away. They could argue it all day—but had Akavir not invited a strange man into their lands to do as he wished, it wouldn’t have happened. Exhaustion set—his eyes glancing up to the tepid sky. “How’s Mae?”