“Slow down!” he laughs. “I can’t keep up!”
She stops running and turns around, and he almost crashes into her. On reflex, he grabs her around the waist to keep them both from toppling into the sand.
“I said slow down, not stop.” Without thinking, he pokes her ribs, and she squirms away.
“Rominy!”
Is she ticklish?
Before he can ponder that thought, she points to a stream flowing from the center of the island toward the sea. “Do you think there’s a waterfall?”
Then she takes off again, this time following the stream into the heart of the island, where overgrown vegetation forms a backdrop for their adventure.
She’s light on her feet, practically floating through the brush, while Rominy carefully picks over each step. His footfinds a twig, and he winces. Perhaps he should walk in the water. The smooth river rock on the sandy creek bed looks a lot more inviting than the bramble he’s traipsing over now.
They should have put on shoes. Or he should have. She seems to be managing fine in her bare feet.
He dips his toes into the gurgling water, expecting it to be cold, but it’s not. It’s warm, like the air around them, and his feet thank him for the relief from the jungle floor.
He moves slowly as the soft current tugs against him, but it’s faster than he was managing before.
He looks up to search for Elowyn, and a glimpse of white disappears into the brush ahead.
Then she gasps.
“Elowyn?” He quickens his pace, pushing against the water, but she doesn’t respond. “Elowyn!”
She’d better not have met another dragon.
When he breaks through the treeline into a small clearing, he stops short. She stands beside him, her lips parted and her eyes wide as she takes in the scene before them.
At least she’s not hurt or in danger.
And it is beautiful here.
“Rominy, a waterfall,” she breathes, and he nods.
Indeed, water gushes over a stone embankment fifteen feet above them, filling a pool big enough to swim in.
She looks longingly at the water, and he steps closer to her.
“Do you want to go for a swim?” Not that he needs to ask. He can read it in her eyes.
Perhaps they should have donned more water-friendly clothing before following a creek upstream.
“I long to swim beneath a waterfall,” she whispers.
“Then we have to do it.”
“But we’re not dressed right.”
He shrugs, though his heart speeds up at the thought of the way her gown clung to her last time they visited the heartlanding.
“I suppose...” She bites her lip as she continues studying the inviting pool.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind if I swam in my underlayer, whatever it’s called?”
