Firefly Glen [phe] Iset

If he was holding his breath with suspicion that she had come to ask him of his avoidance of detainment in the red sand cells, it was releases slowly as her warmth washed over him from tone alone. She thanked him instead—and gravely, he wondered if she even knew of his connection to her hebsut, and that the loss had in minor part, been one of his own as well.

That he had been the one to put her in such a predicament.

Wane was his smile, though his own eyes flitted over her with returned warmth. He pushed away from the tree, moving to greet her with a dip of his muzzle in acknowledgement of her standing—skirting closer and yet leaving the grand woman her space—as always in her presence, his heart stuttering at how much she reminded him of his deceased mate.

“Your gratitude is appreciated, but not needed,” he offered her, a smile smile pressing to his lips. An honored guest of the palace—a sentiment he was certain that she held singularly, for his presence had been anything but welcome. Yet Toula held her throne with the love and encouragement of her people… but how long before politics would see her stripped of it?

He hoped never. The stories he had heard of Akashingo prior seemed to have drifted away to the past with her reign.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” he offered with honesty lacing his voice, a tip of his muzzle given in the direction of the palace direction. “Pleasantly so,” he confirmed.

She offered gifts—it would seem rude not to indulge her, though he felt it undeserved. “Mmm,” he agreed quietly, sweeping a paw forward in invitation for her to come further to their camp. “Only if you accept some of ours in return.”