Gyrfalcon's Keep Woodsmoke and oranges

rusalka considers her words; the play of these silent considerations dancing like phantoms waltzing across the planes of his face.

there and gone before any of them could be snagged and closer examined.

she moves and hungrily the cairn watches her, nearing. fond echoes of how she felts wrapt in his embrace tugging now at his mind.

a noise, half a rumble, half a hum lingers in his throat.

that i can do. for to her whims and desires, as with his own, he is a willing puppet.