Perhaps if the forest had not approved of them so mightily, it might have been different. If it was a mere tryst, or something of that sort, as many noblemen and women are caught in. But the forest seemed to bow in approval. That ancient place, with trees so knotted and gnarled that they seemed to be faces. A place where every plant had personality – and in that place, so full of presence, it was Dominus and his dear comrade, his budding lover, that they all bowed to.
For until that point, they had assured the world that they were merely that. Blake was sure that they'd been as a good as their word. But seeing it, he could see the embers of something far more, a raging, burning fire between the two of them. Theirs was a love that was as natural as the stream that he'd had to cross to see them. Left to its own devices, it would grow, and blossom, and nourish all that was around them.
