Firestone Hot Springs [m] Wild Childs, Lookin' Good

Machi’s paw shot up to stop her, but the jackdaw was quicker, and he realized her intentions only after it was too late. The pod had already disappeared between her clenched jaws, and now all she would find in his gaze was not concern, not any longer, but the detached scrutiny of a scientist observing his favorite lab mouse—chilled, analytical. His eyes flicked over her, calculating the time between her swallowing the last seed and the dilation of her pupils. A stark contrast to the usual warmth clearly evident in his gaze any time it was upon her—the woman he cared for so deeply.

But there was no reversing what had been done, no taking back the seed now traveling down her throat. He wouldn’t squander the fleeting effects of the flowers by fretting over side effects that might never come to pass.

If this breaks you, Legend, darling, then at least you’ll break in like company, he remarked, a wry smile curling his lips, and in the next breath, he took off, racing toward the rabbits and beyond them, the springs.

Tonight, they would feel alive, unburdened by titles, expectations, and memories of the past. This would be the night to race across the plains and scream at the moon, and they would enjoy it to the fullest.