The Heartwood eye for an eye, heart for a heart

She was awed by his gift! It felt good to give, and more-so because she seemed at once so sad when he'd found her, and now so happy. Maybe she was not used to being given things? It was pleasing enough to have made her happy, but thrilling in that same boyish way he had not expected. Mojag wanted to bring her more things! He had other flowers—he knew too, where certain rare blooms could be found in this area. That would require leaving her again, and — no, no, he wouldn't. He couldn't.

The way she spoke now, whether it was due to the gift or some kind of weakness brought in the night, made him certain he would not go without her again, even for a moment. She spoke of the Sidhe—was that a clan? A village? Mojag knew of many names, and peoples, but he had not heard of this one.

He felt bashful as he shook his head, which was different from his usual charm. He felt stupid for lacking the knowledge! How foolish of him, he could learn. He found he only wanted to be close to her, and so if this was something she would share—that meant more time with her.

Are gifts different to your people? He wondered aloud, if only to get her talking more.