Whitebark Stream [m] would you love me if I ruled the world?

Veteran didn't know what business Dione had to conclude at the Bypass last night, but there was a pessimistic part of him that worried it would involve a conversation with someone who might talk her out of leaving. He answered her call with equal parts relief and eagerness. 

He drew up beside her and inhaled deeply, drinking in her alluring scent. "Your trophies," he remarked, taking note of the possessions she carried. "I have a spot where they can be kept safe." He had put his spare time last night to good use, setting up a temporary densite for them at the edge of the woods that sheltered the spot where the stream branched off from the Qeya River. 

I'm glad you came, he almost said, but at the last moment he chose different words. 

"You look beautiful, Dione." And she did. Draped in the hides of her proudest conquests, she had never looked more formidable, or in Veteran's eyes, more desirable. He wasn't sure he could wait until they made it back to camp. Ever so gently-- reverently, even-- he nudged his nose beneath the hides, his hot breath meeting the nape of her neck as he eased the hides down her spine, baring her shoulders. He paused before he removed that hides completely, meeting her gaze in a wordless request for permission to proceed further.