Firefly Glen it can change you

Like a lost ship at sea, Fleur felt drawn to his harbor, lead by the guiding light in his words. She felt it, deep in her bones as his words rumbled through her; something ancient, steadfast, everlasting. It made its home in the air within her lungs, the blood that rushed in her veins, branding her.

Sealing her cracks with a blue-gold liquid, marking her anew.

Her eyes had closed briefly, overwhelmed by the rush of whatever it had been that overtook her. It pulsed slower now within her, easing the pounding of her heart. She did not fear, only wanted.

Many things. Wonderful things. 

She took a deep breath, her eyes finding his as she let it loose. He was unwavering—those eyes bore into her with an intensity she wanted to understand. To know.

To soften when they landed on her. But, ever just slightly, for only her eyes to see. To notice. The cloud of a girl could never replace what the man had lost, whatever grief he carried with him would always be there, but she wondered if he, too, could use a guiding light in the darkness.

It was silly, she knew, to feel this way toward a stranger. He would surely find her naive, young-minded. And—she wouldn’t blame him. Not an ounce. And so, she bottled it, hiding it deep in the confines of her foolish heart.

Yet, the bottle rattled and raged, begging for its release as he brushed past her. The warmth in his contact was fleeting—had the air always been this cold? 

His words wove in and around her, a balm to a soul that burned.

She rushed to follow him, her words just as quick yet strong and sure. “Then let it be here—now. Let this be where it begins. I will walk with you as well…Solharr.” If he would have her, she would go with him to the Quarry, alongside his pack, and build a life there for herself.