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The night of six moons cast its silvery light upon the island, and a silence fell over the warm Eastward banks as the Lost Boys retreated back to their forest claim. Faleine stepped near to the water, eased by the cooler winds and the rolling of the waves. Were the tide not so unpredictable, she could sleep amid the rocks or upon the sand – she considered it regardless.
“You should come back with me, Apphia*.” The stern, commanding voice of a young man allowed her to come back to her senses. She turned to him at once; his eyes were alight with new intensity and her face burned under his cunning gaze. Afraid as she was she practically leapt into his arms, kissing him thrice on his responsive mouth.
“Now will you?” Asked Rufio when Faliene’s hands had left his face. He smoothed over his dark hair - some of which had strayed as a result of her action and fixed his belt from which the sword hung loosely in its sheath.
“Yes.”
With that, they turned aside from the bank and walked together back into the green-black of the forest.