“…Though, if your hearth burns warm, I won’t refuse the heat.”

There, a ghost of a smile—fleeting, almost imagined.

“I ask for nothing,” she said simply, her voice calm but not unkind. “I did what was needed.”

Her steps were light, but deliberate—as if she feared disturbing the very snow beneath them. A long pause, then she glanced sidelong at him, as though studying the brightness in his words.

~

She did not offer her name just yet—only followed his gaze to the men being helped up, before returning her eyes to him.

“I will follow.”

The voice that reached her did not startle her, though her head turned slightly to acknowledge it.

With a dip of her chin, she offered a quiet nod.

“…I only happened to be passing through,” she said, voice low and even, the wind nearly stealing it. “But I am glad I was not too late.”

~

“Then the winds have good taste,” she whispered with a small smile. “Sorin Nohra. The pleasure is mine, Mousey.”

She turned slightly toward him, hands folding in her lap.

“They say chance encounters in the breeze are never truly chance at all…”

"Oh— not at all... You're welcome to."

She offers a small smile, scooting aside just slightly to make room. The quiet presence was, truthfully, rather nice.

~ slipping through the canopy like gentle promise. “We’re almost there.”

~ a question—more an observation whispered to the wind between them.

Her steps were careful, guiding without haste. “Some places call to us. Some moments…” she glanced over her shoulder, a flicker of warmth in her lilac gaze, “…are more than they seem.”

She turned forward again, the light ahead ~

Sorin paused as his clawed hand moved beside hers, both clearing the path in silent accord. The brush of their efforts stirred the scent of damp earth and morning blooms, mingling gently with her presence.

“…You felt it too, then,” she murmured, voice barely above the hush of leaves swaying. Not ~

~

Her hand brushed against a hanging vine as they passed it.

“If there’s something worth sharing… I may speak of it. But I think I would rather let the tea steep before the words do.”

She smiled faintly at his musings, her steps light despite the earlier tension. Her eyes wandered toward the trees overhead as they walked, branches swaying gently in the breeze.

“Then may fortune continue to favour you,” she said softly, a small playful note hiding behind her usual calmness.

~

~

“And I don’t offer tea lightly. If it brings even a moment of peace… then it’s worth far more than the leaves it’s brewed from.”

Sorin didn’t look back—she didn’t need to. His final glance said enough.

“I am now,” she murmured, voice low enough that it felt like it was meant for him alone.

She walked beside him with quiet steps, as if matching his pace by instinct. A small pause passed before she added—

~

~

“You’ll have your tea,” she added, after a pause.
“You’ve more than earned it.”

She moved just enough to stand alongside him, the shift quiet and natural—as if they had truly arrived together.

“Thank you,” she murmured, almost like a breeze only he was meant to hear.

Her hands folded loosely in front of her as they walked. She did not look back.

~

🌙 How Sorin Responds to Being Hit On

~
Flirting isn’t about banter.
It’s about presence. Intention. Care offered without demand.

~

Flirty touching?
She’ll subtly shift away. Not rudely—just like a breeze guided her shoulder.

Sincere affection?
She may not respond the way most expect—but she remembers it. Holds it in her chest like a quiet fire and reflects on it when no one’s looking.

Because for Sorin?
~