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Ciaran sat on the ground, curled into himself with his back against a tree, making little attempt to hide - there were no other fae living near his lake, and though the wulver could probably locate him easily should he try, Ciaran wasn’t so sure he minded anymore. With trembling fingers, he brushed a dark lock of hair from his eyes, trying to make sense of the emotions fluttering like dragonflies in his chest.
He was safe, he was fine.
- Part 1 of Ancient Names (MagicVerse)
It’s evening, not quite sunset, and the lake shines under the dimming light.
- Part 2 of Ancient Names (MagicVerse)