For a moment Temperance genuinely thought her days were up and that the sensation of being pulled was the Lord finally taking her soul home, albeit with slightly more force than she had imagined the Lord having when he raised a follower to eternal paradise. She was quite prepared to meet St. Peter at the pearly gates so it was a shock when instead she found herself above the water’s surface breathing chilled, salty air and held tight in the arms of Conall Mackay.

Her eyes stung fiercely and so did her pride, but letting go of him would mean a swift return to drowning so Temperance clung tighter. Quite why she trusted in his body to keep them both afloat she wasn’t entirely sure – perhaps because, as she was discovering, it was quite sturdy? – but trust him she did and though the instinct to panic reared up like a cobra in her stomach she refused to give in to it.

Which was all well and good but at least one of her layers was crafted from wool and no sooner had Temperance made her mind up to remain a limpet to Mackay the weight of her skirts pulled her under the water once more.

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Wonderful set by Lady <3