She combed her fingers through her hair, smiling to herself.
“Good morning, Angel.”
She turned towards the sound of his voice, soaking in the dappled sunlight playfully caressing his bare torso. Berryl watched with unabashed delight as he toweled his hair from his swim in the nearby stream.
“Good morning, Lover,” she grinned, rising to meet him. “And what plans do we have today, hmm?” she asked, tugging at scant fabric between them. Scattering kisses, he caught her up into his arms and nipped her ear, whispering heavily.
She poked the embers, wishing the heat would touch the icy chill that had lodged its tendrils deep in her chest.
“This is the reason I wanted to become strong,” she told the flames. “A hunting knife to cut out their murderous hearts, and a quiver of arrows to protect me.” Drawing a steadying breath, she continued, “I half-wonder if I’d been in possession of one then, would I have been tempted to fall on it afterward.”