Dragoncrest Cliffs i give myself v good advice but v seldom follow it (sits on a rock & cries)

Her ears feathered, as if some part of her did hear him, and otherwise remained in a doze; it was only until he withdrew from his inspection that she began to wake. After several, bleary presses of her eyes, she felt the irked presence of her mate before she saw him herself. It was with a sleepy little smile and a hum of ”Dragă...” that she nestled the crown of her head into the juncture between his dark chest and shoulder. Mourning meant missing, for everyone involved — but she was patient, ever-so despite it. He needed all the time he could take.

”I apologize for keeping you waiting. I was dreaming of names for ze copii,” she mumbled, lashes heavy on scarred cheekbones. It wasn’t entirely untrue, either. ”If I’d been awake, I would’ve been more prepared to praise you.” Her voice, though teasing and dotingly so, was a worn rasp, and she quickly withdrew herself to to cough dryly into her own shoulder.

Ears remaining drooped, curved back and wilting, she returned her gaze to Verx, silver and sickly. And the worry came with it, ”I... I think I have a cold...” words still quiet, as if she’d done something horrendous to have fallen sick in the first place. But, as glossy as they’d become, her eyes remained soft and embracing, ”B-bVerx—“ sniffled, grumbling, tried again, ”Verxb- I hope your days have been healing. H-hows are you?”