Fox's Glade crystal rain

The trace of silver eyes on him rekindled the memory of her mouth next to his ear—whispered words given when demanding an introduction. A wry grin began to curl at the corner of his mouth—but he tampered this by turning, pulling his own unabashed gaze from her and weaving back to the creek, their meeting concluded.

Distractions, for now, would need to be placed to the side.