Bearclaw Valley i recounted the memories

in truth, merrick was a little dizzied by the mention of so many plants, and less intrigued than he had been initially. yet his pleasure was in evien's clear passion for his craft; he drank in the dancing green of the other's gaze, lit by that cotton-candied smile. 
once more, he did not find it difficult to see the appeal of the brazen little doctor. "perhaps you should choose," he invited. "you're the artist here. paint me something, evien," merrick teased, cyclops-burning for just a moment before he stood again, waved his plume. "was thinking that eventually we will need new hunting grounds."
easthollow
"one that doesn't reek of foxes."