Quin trampled roots and undergrowth as he made his way back to the house. He dreaded talking to Rudolph about his life with Isadora, so he took his time. Alisen, on the other hand, was someone he was excited to talk with. Although he shared his heart with Isadora, there was a small warm place there for Alisen. Ever since he had first seen her, together with Rudolph, the warm place had persisted.
It was her eyes, it must have been. There were lovely, like a cat's. There were a bit narrowed, and brilliantly blue, with a small lining of tiger-orange. Altogether they shimmered and together with her long black lashes and tan face framed with shoulder-length dark hair, she was beautiful.
Isadora was pretty also. Not the kind of beautiful Alisen was, more resigned, delicate. And it was her voice, like a song, that was so attractive about her. When she spoke, everything else fell away in silence, peeled off the earth.
Quin, caught up in his remembrance, suddenly found himself standing before the house, where Rudolph and Alisen could be seen huddled together on the porch. Seeing him standing there, they quickly rose, but did not separate.
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