strawberry wine

The tiny, purple and white fae had been happier lately than she ever had been in her whole life and it was mostly thanks to Indigo. Had the man not found her tied to that tree out in the woods, she never would have known such kindness. She never would have known happiness, safety, understanding or, dare she say it, love? Despite all of this, the small woman was still demure and reserved. Still shy. Those habits would take a long, long time to break.

When Indigo asked her along to pick berries with him, Gypsy agreed. He'd done so much for her, so why would she deny him anything that he asked for? The dainty fae moved along behind him, his tail touching her shoulder as had become their habit. Sometimes, if the trek was long, he would lift her and she would ride in his mane. Gypsy had to admit that she rather liked that. It made her feel safe like nothing else did. Perhaps he would let her ride in his mane on the way back.

Indigo's voice met the lady's mismatched ears and they perked, swiveling to catch his rich tones. "I really only like strawberries," she spoke softly. Gypsy had gorged herself on the berries that Segin had brought to her. Of all the foods in the world, she loved strawberries best. Hesitantly, Gypsy took a step forward, ears tucking against her crown for a moment. "I can help you pick whatever types of berries that you like though." He just had to show her where they were.