Stavanger Bay I took his hand, we stood back, and watched the banks turn red.

in true masculine form, had velen known her thoughts, he would have treated her to a chortle and a light bit of flirtation. he had never been rejected before, though this was a moot point as few opportunities to cavort with ladies had ever presented themselves. still, the ceto was youthfully overconfident in his abilities.
but velen did not have the dubious gift of telepathy; he moved to walk alongside the proud scarred woman in silence for many beats before he sighed. "honestly, i am sickeningly interested in what this beef with smokestep is about," he admitted, for he had no other questions aside from that one.
for now.