In the Vale of Mists, the waning moon overhead cast a dim, silvery light through the blanket of fog that covered the valley. In the distance, the faint sounds of night birds hunting and larger animals rustling through the undergrowth added texture to the otherwise still night for those with ears sharp enough to hear them.
On her terrace, overlooking the valley, Ashlynn luxuriated in Nyrielle's touch, snuggling close to her lover and basking in the contentment that followed one of Georg's sumptuous meals.
"I missed these moments," Ashlynn said softly as she closed her eyes to relax into Nyrielle's comforting embrace. This close, the scent of lavender soap and the subtle touch of honeysuckle perfume that the ancient vampire wore mingled with the misty air and the distant scent of cedar to create an aroma that comforted Ashlynn just as much as the smell of salty ocean air, seagrass and her father's more rugged, almost leathery scent had comforted her as a child.
