At first they just watched, but soon Fala found herself swept up the the dance. She frisked around the circle, her hands in the air, feet flashing through quick high steps. Her hair escaped from its ribbons and stuck to her sweaty face, but Fala didn't care. It was all exhilirating.
Eventually Fala wore herself out and flopped down on a bench to rest. Her eyes still followed the dancers as they wove and leaped against a backdrop of golden flames. One in particular caught her attention, a tall young man with powerful muscles that humped and stretched as he moved. His skin gleamed like bronze in the firelight. Black hair framed his face as he paused to flash her a wide white grin. In that moment, she could see his eyes too, a pale hazel almost the color of raakorn. Then he spun away and vanished in the swirl of bodies. Fala sighed.
"That's Dareg," said a smooth voice as someone sat down beside her. "He's quite popular with the women, though you're a bit young for him yet."
Fala turned to see an equally handsome man sharing her bench. "He smiled at me," she said.
"He smiles at everyone."
"Would you smile at me?" Fala said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He did, a beautiful big smile framed by dimples. It made Fala's heart flutter. "Gladly," said the man. "I'm Karavai, ranger of Itrelir."
"Fala," she said, then remembered to add, "ranger of Itadesh."
A Torn World Valentine
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