i would not be a soldier so long in the field were i frightened that easily, gjalla. still, seutonius felt as though he understood what she asked. they were both aloof creatures more suited for a solitary life than anything else. she did not simper, nor did she misdirect. they were not a pair of young creatures dabbling in shyness -- they were grown campaigners who understood the nuance of a look.
her eyes moved upon him. she was made hushed and sharp-edged by what he comprehended, what he found answering in himself. there was no longer any space between them and thus none for denial. it is not fear i feel.
the sungold of his eyes was brightening somewhat, wakening as she did. here in the rush of water with the most apt compatriot beside him, seutonius knew it not as fright but as a rejoinder.
his gaze framed her face; he took in each reflective emotion and at last offered a small and knowing smile.
her lead would be observed -- he meant to follow her choice and movement.
a soldier of their status knew to look ahead and behind. they would be the contingency for on another, for a time, for with gjalla he found himself able to suspend for a time the edict of an old and ragged campaign.

lovee the way you write him so much <3 also feel free to pp a bit

---

his refutation earns a pleased smile from her, though short-lived. her head turns, angling toward the far bank again, though her attention does not settle. a step back, then—only a half-step, maybe less, to allow the river rushes quick to fill the space she leaves behind. water drags against her chest as she gives him room enough to breathe. the distance is small, but it is there now, a line drawn clean between them. a choice given.

her head lifts slightly, chin tilting as if to better look at him, though her eyes never left. an invitation, not a retreat.

droplets slip from her jaw as she breathes, slow this time, measured despite the way her lungs still pull a little too deep. her gaze drags over him again, unhurried and unabashed across the breadth of his chest, the line of his throat, the set of his stance against the current. then what?

---

can fade or timeskip!

gjalla invited. seutonius was her choice, and he waited no longer. his rejoin was to honor with action, not words. for once there was no battlefield -- this was not a conflict. it was the meeting of spirit and mind. from the first, he had comprehended a mutual respect in gjalla, a command of the unsaid that suited them both. it had been in their speech and in their quiet and in their hunting. she asked nothing of past or future, only present, and present was where he found himself.
many believed the gods witnessed such scenes. others thought he gods found such mortal brush to be a frivolous hobby.
but it did not matter. seutonius discovered that he had a new belief of his own, and it was that the stars from the skies now lived within gjalla, exhaled as glimmering light.

timeskip!

---

gjalla surfaces gradually. the river no longer roars in her ears, and finally her fever has settled. in it's wake, it left low warmth, banked embers instead of wildfire. whatever had burned through her the night before has settled into something else entirely—something without name nor purpose, but it exists and it lingers.

the ground beneath them is cold, but it does not reach her—not where she lies half-draped across him, cheek pressed to the broad plane of his chest. beneath her, a soldier at rest, for once. her lashes part only slightly, enough to take in the dim wash of morning light stretching thin across the land, catching in the edges of his form, in the rough lines carved by years and war.

gjalla tilts her head just enough to look up at him, tracing the lines of his face as if to ensure it was more than mere fantasy, a fever-induced dream. a pleasant surprise it is to see him in flesh and know that what transpired was real. the corner of her mouth shifts into a smile, almost there and then gone again.

her paw shifts to rest more fully against him, feeling the warmth there, the solidness of it. real. present. a breath leaves her, quieter than sleep. up, seu.