Golden Glade kinpaku

he infuriated her.
it stung to think that somehow this man, so unlike those she had known before, was somehow also a brother to her; more familiar than the behemoths of the strath in that way, much as satsu wished to abhor him.

she would not, rather could not, delve in to why; he had not been raised in her father's household and was certainly not of her people, given that he was a man and somehow a godhead simultaneously, and would not understand.

or perhaps satsu did not understand herself. she only did as she was taught. one day she would dance for her husband—that had been her mother's wish.

little about men truly shocks or awes. she decides aloud, and looks at him again with the redness fading from her cheeks ever so slowly. thinking of her brothers was a sobering affair.

the maplewood sighs with her, raining golden laurels and turning satsu's attention to the glade, her gaze bright, as if she might witness something of deeper intrigue than the man. certainly a visit from a spirit would suffice; but the wind died down quickly, leaving her tousled and the air thick and sweet again.