no.seutonius was not ignorant of the way gjalla looked at him. this compulsion in the air, this bite of the pink flame -- it had the stunning impact of removing several years from his age in feeling, so that for a singular moment he was not the jaded, war-stiffened campaigner longing for respite. that for a singular moment he was a younger man, watching with intent the warrior who stood beside him.
in her assessment of danger the fighter found the same, but in its wake there was no deterrence. he did not allow any desire to become clear.
for now, their reflections in the water were not quite melded.
seutonius knew only what women who fought allowed him to comprehend. their wants were not always that of a wife; they were pragmatic and no-nonsense.
the roman and gjalla burned, uncleared from their tribulation. he reined himself tighter and tighter, muzzle dipped for a drink, fleeing the knowing set of her face for a moment of cool sweetness.
water rushed -- seutonius took a deep breath and plunged his head beneath, willing the current to clear his mind. in years long gone, he had responded to every bit of fire in a set of pretty eyes. when had he become careful? a snort, drawing himself out from the gloom and cold.
