The Heartwood eye for an eye, heart for a heart

He was earnest in his shyness—but not overbearing. Missing was the confidence of the dark man who had reborn her—but perhaps, when she stepped forward now and tipped her muzzle up to skim the very breath he ushered—she would instill some bravado to him.

And so she swept her lips upward in a light kiss. To her, it was electric—affection in the simplest of forms—rebellious in nature against what her parents would have deemed necessary, perhaps.

Before her stood a man who was handsome and unattached—and the moment she had walked away from the evergreen forests of Fornejska, she had come to relish her own indirect freedom of comparison—of do’s and don’ts.

Sometimes, life was simply for living. And it was with this thought that Reilly would meld herself closer to him, to deepen this kiss with a certain desire to test the very limits of life itself.