Turel would like to give Jinana a bug and a kiss.
February is late summer here, and the dense shade of the forest brings a welcome respite from the merciless sun. Life hums all around, in the buzzing of insects and the rustling of foraging squirrels, rising in the heady scent of summer flowers and green growing things. Life, too, is in the damp earthy scent of the forest floor, where the small scuttling things, the sleek worms and the secretive fungi break down the remnants of life past to make way for life anew.
Jinana rests with hir back against the stump of an ancient tree, eyes closed, taking in the forest with hir other senses. It's good for hir to do this, to get away from the city for a short time and experience the timeless rhythms of the natural world; it helps to ground hir, to calm the chaotic magic that roils inside of hir.
The gentlest brush of something against hir hand causes hir to open hir eyes. Turel is holding something in his own hand, with infinite gentleness - a sprig of flowering wild thyme. Perched upon this, no bigger than one of Jinana's own fingernails, is a beetle, its carapace gleaming with rainbow stripes. Its antennae wave busily as it turns itself around to inspect the fingertip s/he extends, before clambering on, tiny hooked feet tickling.
"A rare beauty," s/he says softly, smiling. Turel smiles in turn, then leans in to brush a soft kiss against hir lips. The beetle presently wings its way back to the patch of thyme, intent upon its foraging, as the two visitors to this forest are intent upon each other.
(Picture under the cut because Bugge)