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Did he make that one just for me?When would he have ever seen a nightingale? Perhaps in the human memories he has knocking around in that big skull of his? Not even Linh’s people had a sign for it, as it wasn’t a bird that was native to here – she figured it was some kind of songbird.

How could one person be such a deviant and so sweet at the same time?

Little nightingale. I like that he calls me that.

She’d be his songbird whenever he needed.

I keep having this dream,Nathair thought, as he struggled to open his sight.

“What kind of dream?” his little songbird asked, making him groan and curl his arms around her torso tighter. He nuzzled the underside of his short skull against her lap more.

Nathair thought back on it. Rather than words that came to him, that likely would have shared with her what he experienced, his other senses picked up on it.

They radiated in the blissful, although temporary, inner silence she gifted him.

The recesses of his mind were dark, like hollow night. Like the void of endless nothingness. Like the inside of Weldir’s mind, where nothing lived, could live, and that utter blackness wascomforting.

No light reflected, other than what shone from him... andher.

Two-inch-deep water surrounded him. It didn’t have a colour, as it wasn’t inky like one thought it might be.

His view was always from a third person perspective, as if he was a disembodied bystander. Yet, he could feel contentedpleasure vibrating through his ethereal, orange, and intangible form. As if his emotions were heightened to the point they took on a physical spark in the air, his outer self experienced the laziness in him, the quiet relief, the tranquillity he’d never felt.

The voices were gone, giving him freedom to hold this female in his arms as she lay cradled on top of his tail folds. But, much like his spiritual self, she lacked a physical form. Instead, Nathair held her soul.

Not in the palm of his hand like a little bunny, but as if she was the same size as she was now.

And she waswarm.She gave no breaths, and neither did he, but a pulsating came from within them. At first, his thumping had been fast, sprinting in the cold, lonely darkness by himself. But she always came. Her feet rippled the water she walked on top of, leaving behind little flames that sputtered out as she made her way over to lie with him.

She never spoke a word, never disturbed the silence he’d sought for so long, and just trusted that he wanted her there. She would hold one side of his skull in her lava palm, and tenderly blink up at him with glowing eyes that lacked any whites or pupils in them; they were just a solid brown, pretty glow.

The moment she was with him, his pulsing would slow, only to eventually match hers.

There was no evidence of her soul being tampered with, and he wondered if this embrace would be what it felt like when, or if, he one day consumed it. Would she touch him in such a deeply profound way, like a balm to his very essence? When she gave it to him, could he incidentally destroy what continued to linger and hurt her?

He’d like that to be so, and for her soul to one day feel as comfortable with him as the dream version did.

The only light in his vision came from them and the way they reflected in the colourless water around them. He felt peace, and could have lived there forever.

But, when she knew he was awakening, she would cease singing, cease humming, and the calm waters would begin to violently ripple. White shards would sprinkle in the blackened sky, like pieces of broken glass that gave the tiniest whispers of vibration.

Nathair always knew, before long, those shards would grow and lance the waters around him like falling rubble.

A warm hand stroked down his cool skull, and he finally opened his sight to look up at the female he lay his head upon. Her smile was small, but it twinkled in her expression as she gazed down at him.

Look at the way her eyes shine.Even her black eyelashes were long as they delicately framed them. He reached up to brush a claw beneath one of her molten brown eyes.

Her eyelids flickered, and her cheeks darkened in colour as if they filled with heat. He paused.Shit. She probably heard that.

The giggle that came out of her was sweet, and instantly had him sighing in annoyance.This is the part I hate. I cannot stand that she hears my thoughts.

Would anyone?I’d rather remain voiceless.It seemed like an unfair sacrifice for just a meagre amount of peace.

Now that she was growing more adept at his sign language, the use of his voice felt unnecessary. Before long, they would be able to have complex and deep conversations with little effort.

As he was rising so he could give her space, he noted the crinkle of hurt in her eyes. He sighed again.

“Sorry,” he stated out loud, his voice remarkably groggy from sleep. “It is not that I don’t wish to speak with you, but that I don’t like my innermost thoughts spilling from me as if my mind is a sieve.”