Neverwinter Forest Some would sing and some would scream

there was a hum that caught in his throat when she settled beside him. her body had molded to his perfectly. his songbird. he let his head rest back on the trunk of the tree, finding himself lost in the cadence of her voice. sing, sweetling, sing.

you're smart. he concluded. was that pride in his voice? pride that he could've found his own stjarna in the depths of this forest? a forest, that he, would begin to call his own. whilst they trekked before resting, he'd been marking the trees as they went. his scent lingered here.

as if it were a gift for her grooming, he pulled her closer with a paw latched around her ribs. he could feel her heartbeat, her steady breathing. a real life goddess.

sólhárr. he said, meaning it as an introduction. you are songbird... he traced, offering a nudge to her cheek, but waited for her own name in return.