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disappeared from their vision. Then they had cracked open the old favorite history book and she had read to him for some time.

Now she searched the map for the elf country of Eldora, and Fred watched her. Her gorgeous magenta and gold hair had grown ever so long over the last few years. He had watched her blossom beautifully into the lithe and energetic being now beside him. He loved her scent... He loved her musical laughter that seemed to be a song in major, never hitting a sour note. He admired her creamy, blameless skin. Softer than silk, smooth and warm and virgin. Her firm, perfect breasts that weren't too large, but not too small... and the curve they added to even the bulky layers she now wore... her delicate thighs...
He cleared his throat, looking away and shifting his position.

"I don't see Eldora on this map anywhere..."
"That is because it lies across the sea, Sweetling." Fred was glad for the distraction from... well, from his distraction.
She sighed, tracing with a delicate finger the path as it wound its way into the mountains and entered a village by the odd name of Hegatzwelt.
She didn't believe they'd make it to the village before nightfall, possibly not for another day and a half. She looked to Fred, who jolted and looked away when her eyes met his.
Saure frowned lightly.

"Fred... are you..." she began to say, then shook her head. Silly notion.
"Go on. Ask your question." he sighed heavily and rested his chin on his paws.
"Are... are you..."
falling in love with me?
"Are you sure we can't press on tonight? We might make it to... Heg...Hegaswhelp by morning if we-"
"Hegatzwelt, Sweetling. The 'w' is pronounced as a 'v.' And... as much as I'd like to say yes..." here, he fought back a stinging tear. "I would rather us make camp for the night soon."

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And so they did.

They were having an unseasonably warm night. The snow had melted, and the ground was only slightly damp. Saure and Fred made their beds by a campfire, their bodies making indentations in the tall grass. Now, I suppose you're wondering how someone can make a simple fire in the midst of such dry, flammable foliage without starting a grass fire. Have you no faith, by now, of Saure's fireweaving abilities?
She had honed all her skills equally. This included her natal gift. It was like a dear present, one her own parents had given her. She treasured it, and treated it with utmost respect.

As Saure watched the flames, changing their color from red, to violet, to a deep indigo... she started to drift off to sleep. She looked to Fred's eyes dreamily, watching the spellbound fire in the macrocosm of facets of the feline's irises. He looked back... and she saw it. She saw it in all its pureness and all its truth... there, in his eyes... as she drifted away.

---

She saw him. The dark-haired young man. So very thin, so very pale... his hands. That was the clearest vision. His thin, dexterous pianist's fingers... they seemed so delicate, but when he took her hands, she felt his strength. And then... his eyes.
They weren't green, as she had first seen them. They were hazel... and deepest olive... and gold...
Such boundless love she found in his innocent eyes. Sad eyes. Wanting eyes. Her eyes, the man saw, mirrored his own in shades of violet laced with the barest hint of deep scarlet. He could see into her soul, where a raging fire burned only for him.

"I know your name." she whispered without the aid of her lips.
"Do you?"
"Yes... I know it when I'm with you... but when I'm awake-"