Broken Boulder daddy's ghost behind you,

that laugh was like a balm to a tattered soul, lilted and soft. dolce decided then he wanted to hear it again. it was as wistful as  rala herself, airy and untethered. that not-so perfect, wolffish grin of his widens, charmed. "ain't you just a ball o' sunshine." 

teasing were the words, but genuine. he'd met many great women in his time, but none quite like her. she withheld the meaning of the nickname, but he didn't mind. if she was to reveal it later, it gave him all the more reason to seek her once again. "i guess i'll take yer word for it. 'n i will take you up on that promise, darlin'." 

dolce listened to her ramble with content, amusement. he liked her voice. she revealed her home, a place apparently far colder than teekon. that was a bitter image in his mind, but it was soothed when she mentioned sunset plains. it reminded him of home, where sunsets had bathed the desert horizons in gold. he imagines hers to be more beautiful—it was only fitting, after all. 

in his minds eye, he pictures rala prancing through the snow, all while the sunset bathes her in ethereal light. it's enough to make his icy heart thaw, if only just a little. 

her integrity isn't lost on him, and his gaze softens with admiration. such a tiny, feisty woman, strong enough to not only live in blistering cold, but to make the arduous journey down here. but he couldn't help but wonder; what is she searching for, so far away from home?

"that's a long journey. you're strong; stronger than most." he hummed, low and rich. not as soft as she appeared, and he enjoyed that. he shook his head then, when she apologized for her talkativeness. 

"nonsense, dove. ain't no such thing." a nickname of her own. fitting for her small and snow-kissed appearance, her gentleness. "reckon i'd sit 'n listen for a while, if you'd have me. you down here lookin' for somethin'?"