Moonsong Glacier my fingers laced to crown,

When she spoke more than the few delicate words she’d stammered out before, Slavik noticed her accent for the first time. It was as elegant as she, just as melodic as her saccharine laugh. He nodded along with what she said, the image of the cat had dug its claws into his mind and wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon.

Next her eyes drifted over his frame, somehow Slavik didn’t notice. His gaze was cast at the icy ground, as he tried to think of what next to say to her. He didn’t want it to be stupid, a rushed introduction or greeting. He wanted to make a good impression on her, he needed to. She just seemed important.

The moonlight woman saved him from his worries, and spoke next. Concern for him, she voiced it in a way that he couldn’t say no to. Yeah of course, thank you... uhh, he said, realizing he hadn’t gotten her name.