Upon arriving in the Valley, there was no question as to where they were. Everything glittered like fragmented glass, from the trees jutting out of the earth to the crystalline rivers cutting along the curves of the land. Magic hung in the air like a mist, making the hairs on the back of Olvar’s neck stand at attention. This was a place he rarely went to if he could help it, but occasionally his travels required it. More often than not he was able to skirt around the edge, either through the Highlands or along the edge of the Dhabu Mountains. It was an unnerving place for him, though the exact reason for his discomfort continued to evade him. In Vada, he let the twins take over navigating, since only they knew where they needed to go to get their flowers. He simply followed along and remained alert for any potential dangers.
As their path dipped downward, eventually leading to the opening of a tunnel, Olvar’s unease grew. There was nothing alarming about the entrance to the caverns, simply a memory of a very dark cave, a very big monster, and a very absent friend. But the deeper they traveled, the less this place resembled that cliffside cavern he’d wandered into back in his homeland. This place was illuminated by a myriad of colors gleaming in chunks off of every surface. He wasn’t sure if the fungus was lighting up the crystals, the crystals were lighting up the fungus, or if they both were creating light of their own.
One of the deeper tunnels opened up into a wide cavern, crystalline flowers blooming brightly before their very eyes. Olvar stared in awe. He hadn’t known anything like this even existed, let alone right below the ground. He glanced over as the twins slid off of Ojuk’s back. Their specialty? Picking flowers could be considered a specialty? As the twins began their dance, pulling more flowers up from the soil with every step, he stepped back to be sure he wouldn’t interfere. It seemed like something that would be sinful to interrupt.
After filling the room with flowers, walls and all, the pair ended their dance to start picking their flowers. Gemma did anyway. Gaea appeared a bit winded by the use of magic, and he eyed her curiously as she approached. “Of course,” he answered, then glanced at Ojuk. The warg yawned, shook out his fur, then ambled over to Gemma. Olvar saw the warg’s nervous behaviors, but once he joined Gemma the beast relaxed.
Olvar gave Gaea his arm and walked along with her, the flowers sliding delicately against their legs as they went. He enjoyed the gentle light of the blooms until the half-nymph pulled them to a stop, and hazel eyes curiously met pink ones. His head tipped to one side as she stumbled over her words, but he said nothing. He wasn’t always the best at talking either. If she needed time, he would give it.
When her words finally came, he felt a flutter in his belly, and it took him a moment to recognize it as anxiety. Since his first year on the road, he’d only ever had one night stands. Flings for a few days at best. Nothing serious, only physical affection before parting ways and hitting the road once again. What Gaea was saying was in the same vein as what he’d heard before, from those who had thought his time had meant more for them. It was unnerving on one hand, but on the other he felt a thrill of excitement. It was easy to claim to care after a single night, but Gaea had been getting to know Olvar for the last six weeks. She knew him by now, at least somewhat. Certainly better than others who he’d gotten involved with.
As she leaned up to kiss him, he found one of her hands to take gently in his as he returned the affection. He let go again after a small squeeze, then moved the hand to her cheek instead. The lycan rested his forehead lightly against hers. “I’d happily go to the Fields again if that was what it took to bring you back. I haven’t let anyone get close before. Not really. But if you feel something between us, and you want to see how far it goes, then I’ll give you my best.”
