Sunspire Mountains all the butterflies have turned to vultures in my stomach

Riley was ill-prepared for the look Esme cast behind her; it was burning, but not hot with contempt. His throat ran suddenly dry, and a full thudding pounded its drumbeat staccato in his chest.

She was serious, that much he could tell. He winced as he scrambled after her, ready to shout from the rooftops I’M WILLING! I’M A WILLING MAID! Of course his throat refused to acquiesce with either the racing of his heart or the rushing of his mind. What came out instead was a garbled mumble. Riley’s ears pinned and he sucked in a breath, steadfastly returning Tiercel’s illuminating gaze.

I want you, He replied plaintively — unaware his earnest would be honestly mistaken for desperation. Perhaps it was that total focus, that complete lack of inhibition when it came to baldly revealing himself, that made Riley so painfully honest. Even if this was a prank, even if she was just pulling his leg, Riley had laid it all on the table and now the ball was in Esme’s court.