The Sentinels godspeed on the devil's thunder

no, i love it!

"sweetbriar glade," lasher murmured aloud, testing the name with his own tones. it was lovely, though he felt a shard of guilt strike him at the memory of her lithe body, and how his eyes had ambled slowly over it. while he and blue willow were in agreement over his own taking of lovers, he felt that his attentions should be upon the darkfurred healer, upon their children. aria was a distraction, if a greatly welcomed one. and yet, there was the notion that he must not be guilty, for to appreciate loveliness was a most natural reaction indeed.

"sweetbriar it shall be. what made you think of it, aria?" the leader inquired, inviting her to walk alongside him as they moved through the frozen glade. as he waited for her answer, a much larger bloom encased in thick frost caught his eye -- he stepped to inspect it. it hung like a drop of blood in its transparent crypt; lasher found himself quite smitten by the sight of such a thing.