Although Arven was capable of empathising with all manner of people when he put his mind to it, he could not even begin to understand why anyone — lady or otherwise — would forsake a walk through the woods just because there weren't crowds of people to compliment their dress and their eyes.

"For what it's worth, I can see your dress", he quipped as she gently took his arm. "And you have beautiful eyes."

He looked at them now, all but lost in the swirls of grey and green, like a still lake in summer. They looked so very familiar...

Just then, there was a loud rustle in the trees and Arven turned to see his damn ferret, little Virgil, up there in a tree with something peculiar between his jaws.

  

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Dove smiled up at him as he complimented her eyes. He had rather striking eyes himself, she thought. Eyes of green that were the same shade as one of her emerald rings back home. Dove's cheeks flushed a deep pink for these sorts of things - deep attraction to someone - were not things she was vastly experienced in. In fact, there had only been one other that had ever drawn her interest in that way but she had no idea what had become of him.

Before she could see anything - if words would have come at all - Virgil finally made his appearance. He had something in his mouth but she could not see what it was from her current vantage point but she assumed it to be a mouse, perhaps. "I see that Mister Virgil has been on a hunt while we have been on one for him," she said in amusement.

  

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"Mm", Arven agreed, but his eyes were narrowed on the ferret; the prey in Virgil's mouth was still wriggling. "Is that... a niffler?"

  

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A niffler? She peered up into the tree. "It's still alive - should we rescue it from your fierce hunte?" She asked. Dove eyed the tree and actually moved to climb it. She had done so in her backyard often enough when she was younger. Much trickier to do in a dress, however.

  

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Arven had met all sorts of souls, unique and otherwise, but this was the first time he'd seen a young lady regard brutal wildlife without a bat of an eyelid, and then look as if she was... about to climb a tree.

He didn't know whether to chuckle with amusement or surprise, but it was best he try to divert his attention from this painfully diverting girl anyway. He had an urgent matter to deal with.

"Yes, we should. Virgil, come." The ferret looked at him but didn't move. "Come", Arven repeated, this time in a growl of a voice. Tentatively, like a sheepish dog who knew he'd done wrong, Virgil made his way down the tree. The little niffler in his grasp squeaked; it didn't look harmed, thankfully. Just ruffled and panicked, and quite cross.

Arven crouched on the forest floor, longcoat brushing the ground, as Virgil descended the tree and padded towards him. "I could just manhandle his jaws open, but I'd rather he dropped the poor thing voluntarily", he murmured, half to himself and half to his adventure partner. "You don't happen to have any snacks on you, do you?" he asked her, realising it was unlikely.

  

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Dove watched as Huck commanded the ferret. Her skirts made it too difficult to climb the tree though she privately supposed she could tear them a bit to make it easier. But probably best to save that for if it was absolutely necessary such as if Virgil did not obey.

Dove breathed a sigh of relief as it answered to Hucks growling command and came scampering down. "I'm afraid I do not," she said, looking around to see if there might possibly be any berries or the like in the vicinity. "I can't see any berries that could serve as one, either." She eyed the ferret, wondering what would make the critter willingly drop his prey.

  

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Alright, well, it was best to get this over with then. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that Virgil would realise he was about to lose his prize and do something rash. Arv was more of a doer than a talker anyway.

"C'mere you little rogue", he deftly snatched up the ferret with one hand, and used the other hand to force open the jaws. Virgil gagged in annoyance, but the niffler wriggled free. Then as quickly as he'd performed the procedure, Arv held Virgil by his scruff in one hand, and the niffler in the other. "Check it for injuries, would you?" he asked his companion. Virgil was defeated and droopy — almost bored — in his grasp, but the niffler was wriggly — so much so that it did not look injured at all. But it would be best to check.

  

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Dove winced for the ferrets sake but came close just in case the niffler went toppling out before Huck could catch it. She examined the niffler and saw just a couple of superficial bite marks. She pulled out a couple of of her handkerchiefs and took the niffler from Hucks hand before kneeling on the forest floor, her skirts fanning out around her.

"Now, be still," she instructed the niffler who went still - she assumed from the pain - as she lightly dabbed his blood away with one handkerchief before using the other as a sort of bandage.

  

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With the niffler safe in the girl's careful grasp, Arven lowered the ferret; not letting him go just yet, but holding him with both hands. Virgil nibbled affectionately at his master's trouser leg.

"You've got a gift", he observed, impressed as the niffler fell still upon command.

  

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Dove smiled up at Huck when he said that she had a gift. "I'm tempted to keep him but I don't know if he would like that. My family does have a very large forest on our property that he could roam in but I'm sure he has friends and family in this one." That said, she stood up with the niffler who had gone back to wiggling.

  

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As the girl stood up, niffler in arms, Arven deemed it safe to let Virgil go. And thankfully, the ferret scuttled around a tree, having lost interest in the niffler. Virgil was just a normal ferret, but he was also a wizard's familiar — he knew Arven would not let him have another go at the ebony creature.

Standing up to his full, towering height, Arv regarded girl and niffler, and gave the latter a ruffle on the head. "No wonder you take so naturally to the woodlands", he remarked upon learning she essentially had a forest of her own.

"We'll have to find you a different pet, if not this one."

  

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Dove chuckled as the ferret seemed to have lost interest in the niffler and went scuttling away. She was fond of the mischievous little critter already and she had barely even had time to interact with him. Or perhaps it was because she was also fond of her master, who knew?

"It was the only place I could have any sort of adventure when I was growing up." Up until when she had started sneaking out and attending things. But that had been eight years of that and now she yearned for deeper adventures than the high society world she should have been a part of all her life. She wanted to know what else there was to see.

"What kind of pet do you think suits me?" She asked curiously, eyes a lit with a bit of mischief as she awaited his answer. The niffler seemed to be all right so she settled him back onto the ground and watched as it scampered off, wondering what would now become of the handkerchief it still sported as a makeshift bandage.

  

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There were worse things than growing up with a flourishing woodland in one's back garden, but Arven was under no illusion that privilege meant happiness. And besides, Arven had been blessed with a different kind of privilege; not wealth, but one that afforded him the ability to trek the rainforests of the world.

But as Virgil and the niffler mused over the surrounding trees, thankfully no longer interested in one another, Arv reckoned his greatest privilege in this moment was his ability to lure this particular person on today's adventure. And at her question, the tall wanderer moved closer. "How about", he dared raise a hand, curled fingers very barely grazing her slender jaw; "me".

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   Robin Ashdown

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Dove was taken by surprise when Huck moved closer. His words were even more surprising and she was struck speechless for a moment. But a smile soon appeared on her lips as she looked up at him. "You would like me to keep you?" She asked teasingly, flirtatious lilt in her tone. "As my pet, would you take me on many more adventures?"

  

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Arven had never been suited to conventional courting scenarios, where timid girls glance nervously at their fussy chaperones, formal names are uttered as if meeting for the first time, and barely a handshake is permitted by Queen and Country. His tearoom was the forest, her chaperones were sundry wildlife, and her parasol? Her parasol was a sword.

And so Arven had no hesitation with his improper behaviour, and it was received with those ocean eyes full of interest and invitation. "Hm, that depends", he murmured, tracing her smooth jawline, closer than ever, "on how easy you think I am to tame."

  

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Dove gazed up at him as he traced her jawline, her breath catching in her throat. She then had to laugh in response to his words - not mocking but merely amused. "A most impossible task, I would hope," she admitted freely as she reached up to lightly graze her own fingertips against his jawline. "For I would not want to tame you, Huck, but to run wild with you." It didn't really occur to her that these were very bold words to say but they were what she felt so they were what came out of her mouth. It was true, though. He did not strike her as a man meant to be tamed but a man meant to find a companion that would join him.

  

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