Adventure wasn’t always about fleeing from home and landing between a mountain and a hard place. Arven had left his front door this morning seeking adventure, realising there was a path he’d not yet tred, and he’d found it in a trice. The scene of the beautiful, wild young woman laughing as the boat carried her above the surface of the lake would be seared on his memory for some time; an invincible illustration for an adventure novel.

”And you”, he replied gruffly with a light smile, sure enough quite impressed with how she’d handled the perilous situation.

And yes okay, there was the smallest note of playful sarcasm in there as well. It wasn’t often a witch finds herself alone in a sinking boat, after all.

Arven offered a graceful hand to the lady, should she wish to rise from the albeit comfortable-looking bank. Lounging in a boat, flopping on the grass… with a considerable bout of hazard in between. This individual knew how to live.