The day unfolded in a series of gentle, sun-drenched vignettes. From his perch on the bed, Kaelen observed Elicia's life as it unfurled. One moment, she was a whirlwind of motions amidst the vibrant hues of her herb garden, her hands deftly pruning and tending. The next, she was cradling a small, wounded creature – a field mouse, perhaps – its tiny body nestled safely in her palms, her touch gentle and reassuring.
Then, she was a flurry of activity around the cottage, her movements efficient and graceful as she swept, cleaned, and performed countless small tasks, each one executed with quiet precision. And then, as if summoned by some unseen signal, a line of small animals – squirrels, birds, a rabbit – each bearing minor scratches and injuries, formed a patient queue outside her cottage door. Kaelen watched, mesmerized, as Elicia greeted each one with the same calm kindness, her touch soothing their small afflictions. He found himself captivated by the seamless transition between these moments, the effortless grace with which she moved between tending her garden, healing injured animals, and maintaining her humble home.
He found himself drawn to the details – the way the sunlight caught the silvery-blue of her eyes, the gentle fall of her jet-black hair, the subtle tan of her skin, kissed by the sun and wind of the Whispering Woods. There was an ethereal quality to her, a gentle strength that seemed to emanate from her very being. She wasn't merely tending to her garden or healing animals; she was a living embodiment of the harmony and peace that seemed to permeate the very air of the woods, a guardian of the silent creatures who sought her care. The sight of her filled him with quiet awe, a sense of wonder at the unexpected beauty of this life he had stumbled into, a simple and profoundly extraordinary life.
The gentle rhythm of her day, punctuated by the quiet sounds of the woods, created a mesmerizing scene, a private ballet of compassion and care that unfolded before him, painting a portrait of a woman whose kindness was as natural and captivating as the light itself.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cottage floor as Elicia finally turned her attention to Kaelen. The quiet rhythm of the day had shifted, the gentle hum of the woods now punctuated by the unseen crickets.
"Kaelen," she said. "I need to tend to your wound again. Perhaps you could remove your tunic?"
A blush crept up Kaelen's neck, a stark contrast to the calmness that he was during the day. He stammered a slightly embarrassed response, a mixture of protest and awkwardness. Elicia's laughter, however, cut through the tension.
"Oh, come on," she teased, a twinkle in her silver-blue eyes "I admit I do appreciate the view." She confessed with a grin, gesturing towards his broad chest with a playful flick of her wrist. "But, mostly, I need to clean that wound and change the bandage." Her smile was disarming, her words a blend of teasing and genuine concern.
Despite Kaelen's initial embarrassment, he found himself complying. He removed his tunic with a visible stiffness, his gaze fixed on anything but Elicia's eyes. The air thickened with a palpable awkwardness as Elicia gently began the task of cleaning and re-bandaging his still-healing wound. Kaelen remained tense, acutely aware of her closeness, her touch, her presence.
He mumbled under his breath, a comment laced with both self-deprecating humor and a hint of genuine surprise. "I believe my healer has a slightly... perverted side."
Elicia's laughter echoed through the small cottage. "Perhaps." She admitted with a smile. "But even perverted healers need to do their job. It is quite hard, you know? Especially when dealing with a patient as attractive as you."
The tension eased as Elicia silently continued to clean Kaelen's wound. Though Kaelen is still visibly stiff, he now can watch how Elicia expertly dabs the poultice on his wound without feeling embarrassed about it.
Phaeton, sprawled on a woven rug near the hearth, lets out a long, rumbling growl that sounds suspiciously like a complaint as Elicia finishes bandaging Kaelen's wound. Elicia chuckles as she turns to face Phaeton. "What a terrible dinner bell you are, Phaeton." She said with a light teasing tone. "He only gets grumpy when I take time preparing his food." She explains as she gathers all her equipment into a small wooden basket.
She stands. "Time to put your tunic back on, dear patient. Unless..." she trails off, her gaze lingering on his still-bare chest, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Unless you'd prefer to remain unclothed? I do appreciate the muscles, you know."
A deep crimson blush spreads across Kaelen's cheeks, intense enough to rival the red of his irises. He fumbles with his tunic, his movements hasty and awkward as he pulls it on.
Elicia's laughter rings out, filling the small cottage with warmth. "Relax, Kaelen." She teases, her voice laced with amusement. "It's just a joke."
She turns towards the small, well-stocked kitchen, the scent of woodsmoke and simmering herbs already filling the air. "Now, about dinner... I think I'll make that stew with wild mushrooms and root vegetables. It's Phaeton's favorite, and judging by his earlier complaint, he's starving."
She begins to hum a gentle tune as she gathers ingredients, moving with practiced ease that suggests this nightly ritual is a comfortable and familiar part of her solitary life. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables, and the clinking of pots and pans, create a comforting soundtrack to the lingering warmth of their earlier interaction. The air is thick with the scent of simmering herbs and the quiet contentment that settles over them as the evening deepens within the walls of Elicia's cozy cottage.
Phaeton, momentarily forgetting his grumbles, stretches luxuriously, purring contentedly as he begins to smell food in the air. He lets out a satisfied meow as he watched Elicia move about in the kitchen.