As usual, Théadan took her teasing good-naturedly, but he appeared sincere in taking her preferences for his clothes to heart. After another slow kiss, he adjusted the way they’d been dancing together, guiding her into a spin after guiding her arm down from around his neck. She was grinning when he brought her to a stop, charmed by the little spin, and her back resting against his chest. He pulled her in, arms wrapping around her waist in a way that always made her feel so small and safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could ever harm her if she was in his embrace. It was nice, swaying with him while they could both look out at the beautiful scenery laid out before them instead of getting snippets of it over each other’s shoulders. Théadan’s voice remained low in her ear, as if raising it would ruin the magic of the perfect night he described.<br/><br/>“Mhm,” Navia sighed contentedly, eyes first taking in the flower-peppered field stretched out before them, the white buds stark against the dark foliage surrounding them. He’d mentioned the stars though, and Navia leaned her head back on Théadan’s shoulder so she could look up. The moon was there, appearing large from its location in the sky, curved and pointy in its crescent. If it was a full moon, Navia suspected the field they stood in would be all the more splendid, but she found the moon prettier as a crescent. Her eyes drifted out to all the stars they could see next, thousands upon thousands of little glittering lights twinkling just for them. A trio stuck out at her the most, reminding her of stories she’d heard as a child.<br/><br/>“My father used to tell us about the great hunter in the sky,” she explained softly, lifting her hand to point out the line of three stars in a row, “That’s his belt there, then his legs go down that way and his arms and head are there.” Navia traced the outline of the constellation slowly before making a sweeping curve above one of the hunter’s arms, “And there is his bow. He is said to have been sitting in a tree hunting one day when a tigress came into view. She was beautiful, the perfect trophy, so he aimed his arrow at her and had the perfect shot to pierce her heart. Before he could shoot, the tigress pleaded with him that while he had caught her fairly, she had a cub at home and wished to say goodbye to her child before her death. Touched by the tigress’s request, the hunter let her go and expected to never see her again.”<br/><br/>She had liked the story as a child and still did, yet with the recent events in their lives, the imagery the story in her mind brought tears to her eyes. “Later that day, the tiger returned to the hunting spot, much to the hunter’s surprise. She had said goodbye to her cub and kept her word in returning, willing to die honorably at the hand of the hunter. The hunter approached, wanting to be close to end the tigress as swiftly as he could. He raised his bow, took aim, then refused to shoot,” her voice cracked a little, causing Navia to chuckle throatily and shake her head, her hand brushing a couple tears from her cheeks, “Neither the hunter nor the tigress knew, but Akhevan, god of the hunt and battle, had been watching them. He appeared before them then, and praised them both for their honesty, sacrifice, and valor. To show his appreciation, he honored them in the heavens, with the hunter there…”<br/><br/>Navia’s hand rose again to point out where the hunter was, then she outlined the general layout of a second constellation, which made a Y in the sky near the hunter, “And the tigress there. Akhevan was especially impressed with the tigress, so he also takes the form of a tiger to honor her even further.” With a deep sigh, Navia turned her head and snuggled up to Théadan more, finding a spot under his chin to rest. “What does Mes’Mo’Tan say of the stars?” She asked softly.