skill: flowerchild 2/5 [BWP - howlentine's!]

He nodded to affirm it - no matter how old he would remember how safe and warm he had been when snuggled in with his mothers. Though she seemed quite a natural at Mother-Henning, Epona did so with a level of finesse that made it seem so easy. She knew to heat the water slowly over time, although even if he were a frog, he wouldn't have hopped out.

Maybe it was because of how he felt right then - how at ease he was. He would have stayed in the pot until he had been boiled alive so long as he felt like this. Another heavy breath and it was full of Fable and the fire-hot spice. Every breath he took he felt warmer. Was that actually possible? He would have assumed it wasn't. But he wasn't exactly in his best mind.

He laughed at that tease of hers, knowing that yes it was true she handled the nectar far better than he had, Fox was clearly up for the adventure. Imagine - some pretty pot we kept right at the Heart... It didn't take too much effort for him to be able to picture it in his mind. He remembered the rest of the coven and their joyous songs and spirited dances....and he'd done his best to pick up the tongue quickly. He was frozen under the weight of her stare. She saw him, all of him, the faults and insecurities, the joy and the dedication - and she had never measured him and found him too lacking for her.

That was the part that Fox didn't quite understand, but, he'd never been the cocky type to showboat. In Fable's eyes he saw that glimmer, just beyond them, the one that promised the warmth of forever. His gaze only dropped for a moment to her lips as she stepped closer and said his name, and they popped back up to find her still looking at him. He was a bit surprised she asked what abhaile meant - it was her language after all. Fox merely did his best to master it, if for no other reason than to have another tie to bind them.

His head tilted before Foxglove found his voice again. I had asked about a word that was like....deepest friend, y'know, like the one you know will always be there....did I misunderstand? His brow furrowed. I had practiced.....did I say it wrong? Maybe he just needed to pay more attention to his pronunciation. It was impossible to focus too long on though, and he was reminded of the struggle when he'd found Fable in heat. She'd been alone. Vulnerable. Driven by the force of nature itself, and yet they had withheld. It certainly wasn't from lack of want, but Fox was able to curb his baser needs for the sake of what she needed from him instead.

That same sort of ember burned in his chest, and he longed to tell her. He'd always wanted to be a source of safety and support for her. And beyond that even, in the part of his heart that controlled that little baser part, that he wanted to be the one to take care of her, to cherish her, to provide for her and for their young.

It was too easy for him to see it, he could still picture her swollen with life, resting against him, at peace. It did not include the end of days that they'd seemed to be dropped back into. No, they deserved a peaceful spring. The fire made it all so cozy, he hadn't even blinked when Fable had changed the subject, sidestepping entirely what he'd said. No matter the form she took, he'd find her beautiful.