[ the touch of his glove against her neck and along her cheek has her tilting her head towards the contact, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. the impatient part of her wishes she could tear the leather off and guide his bare hand under the double layer of her shirts. but, another part of her enjoys this quiet moment, the fragility and rarity of it feeling suspended in time.

a master seductress, she's no stranger to touch. in fact, she's experienced so much of it over her career, in so many configurations. Viago is far from the first to hold her in a similar way; he is the first to do so in such a genuine manner, though. a gift in itself, as he's the last person anyone would expect to let his prickly armor fall away.

this is a treat, just for her. so, she gladly tucks her head under his chin as he swathes her in more affection, the familiar tickle of his beard along her brow making her smile. ]

Always so much to do. [ that goes for both of them. she doesn't begrudge him for taking a while to come back–the Antaam were persistent, well-equipped. and while Salle feels so very far away, Antiva is not nearly as large as their neighbors; it would only be too easy for the Antaam to overwhelm them in the countryside and surround the cities. ]

Never mind that, I'll need to wash up and change before dinner in any case. [ it's her ritual. ] Besides, you know a little dust won't stop me. You've barely even got mud on your shoes.

[ not that she took particular pleasure in being a mess, but she wasn't nearly as neurotic about it as Viago is. ]