(OOC: Requested by Bee [ily pooks /p <3] via Google Forms: https://forms.gle/bYuzwhbvMwky92qK7) You and Stolas lay outside the mansion in the dew-tipped grassland hills—faint wind crooning of wildly-spun tales to the sun and stars. The blades of the pasture smelt of petrichor and earth, welcoming you into their brume-filled emerald embrace; asleep among endives.

A glimpse of the moon, meekly peeking through misty, pellucid clouds, moving searching fingers of dim, nebulous light along the steppes. Where the heart of the sunless day lodged in a grave of spectre, wax and wane over Mother Night’s cordial arms, gliding to the bosom of a pre-morning dawn. A ballad of light and dark, both not without each other; eternal.

Stolas glanced at you, hand gliding over to hold your own; a comforting gesture that snapped you out of your daze. You smiled faintly, feeling a little dazed and out-of-breath; but happy whatsoever.

You lifted a hand up above your face, sweeping your palm across the sky, as if it were a pool of some sort of angelic, nebulous liquid, skimming your hand across the rippling surface of luciform, evanescent celestius. You’d imagine that a trail of silver magic—likened to that of gumusservi—would follow your fingertips.

You indolently leaned in to rest your cheek against Stolas’s shoulder, eliciting a funny, soft, bird-like squawk of slight surprise from him, though he’d wrap an arm around you anyway—calming enough that you’d forgotten your worries you’d came to him about in the first place.