ooc:
No bells of warning, but a song of content… of longing, as the Knight drew nigh to satisfy her beckon. Upon her lips was a fond smile made by the rekindled warmth of his familiar touch upon her hand. Such lavishing warmth radiating from their reunited hands, truly melting the woman’s heart as she looked into his golden eyes, her own again alight with anticipation.
As he placed his muzzle to her hand her ears drew back bashfully whilst her heart skipped out of sync with the song of the lone violin. It was night impossible to suppress the growing smile upon her lips, so she let it flourish and come to life in all its radiance, rivaling the spectacular flame in its brilliance. That manner in which she had become, a fool burdened by a fluttering heart as she succumbed to the lovely tune, mattered little to her. If only for a moment, she wanted not to wear the garn of an Exultare but enjoy the gaily mood of the Marecks. Indulge if but for a moment in the life her sister lead whilst among the Nomads. To be free to sing, to dance without worry, to be merry and take part in the exuberance of life. And as the beginning of her stay upon these grounds, she was offered a lead into this fragment of life and let herself be carried off without contest…