Fox's Glade my knees are cold

"means yer as beautiful as any sunset or sunrise." he chuckled at her gentle inquiry. his compliments to her came freely now; and with them a warmth that was hers and hers only. as far as he was concerned, no one held a flame to his dove. 

she rose and spoke with an uncharacteristic doubt. that bright, bold light of hers dimmed. he grunted, displeased; she wasn't usually so hesitant to speak freely, a quality he'd come to adore. he followed behind her as if it was his instinct to do so, head leveled with his shoulders. 

"was just walkin'. thinkin', same way it looks like you've been doin'." his voice was low, softer. concerned, or perhaps tentative? her reluctance to share her worries and questions was enough to make him worry, too. "what's troublin' that pretty lil' head of yours, huh? there ain't nothin' you can ask me that'll chase me away." he urged her.