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Just wrote this in an hour lol, don’t know what to say, but I like the vibes 😊 it reminds me of Ivy
~ 1k words
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The Terrasenian Countryside, 1839
The orchard was quiet, like it always was. The silence was only punctuated by the lilting sounds of the outdoors: the birds singing in the flowering blooms, the insects buzzing around and floating in the summery breeze, that same breeze flitting through the branches of the trees, and of course the sounds of his paintbrush darting across the canvas.
There were no words that passed between him and his muse, though her blue eyes were trained on him with the whisper of a thousand hidden secrets.
Rowan Whitethorn knew they were playing with fire, but the risk made the moment that much more charged. If anyone were to discover them… for multiple reasons it would lead to either his banishment or his death.