Gyrfalcon's Keep Woodsmoke and oranges

he is sought.

he is summoned.

rusalka's head swings in solveig's direction as she calls his attention, a low croon leaving her lips. it is immediately reminiscent of their times spent entangled on their trip to this very keep.

though her season has waned with the cycles of the moon since then.

still, he does not forget the feel of her body against his own, how they fit together like puzzle pieces. despite his jagged edges and the unknowns of each other.

it takes the cairn a moment of gears turning to assess the tenderness he sees when she looks at him — and the thorough examination of if it was for him or something else entirely — and to then slide past her face to the soft swell of her flanks.

pieces begin to click together but he is naturally hesitant to assume; thus invites her nearer and greets her with a low, curious grunt.