Rosethorn glanced up and to her right, into the eyes of the other Earth Dedicate she was walking with. Lark was still new to her, at least in that way. It was all new. Deep down, the plant mage was afraid that she was getting herself lost this time. That things wouldn't be right. She hadn't been with a woman in a long, long time, and Lark was certainly… unique.

"You look awfully stunning with a frown delicately placed on your brow and that slight pout in your lips, but it certainly appears that you have something on your mind. Care to have a chat?" Lark asked gently, putting her arm with care over the smaller woman's shoulder. It was a comforting gesture.

All the same, words wouldn't come for Rosethorn. It wasn't that things didn't feel right… She tried, certainly. Nothing came out.

"Is your tongue tied in knots?"

Rosethorn nodded.

"Well, if you want assistance… I'm good with knots."

There was another nod.

The conversation they had upon reaching the side gardens of Discipline cottage was deep and teary. It broke down the barriers and sliced through the mist. The pure, heart felt conversation led Rosethorn's head to spin but somehow remain terribly, amazingly clear. A fist of fear unclenched somewhere deep down.

"I haven't had a conversation like that in years," she murmured into Lark's neck as the woman held her close. "I had to follow you so far down."

Lark smiled down at her and brushed some light auburn hair away from Rosethorn's pale forehead. "Mmm, indeed. You are such a beautiful creature, through and through. I'm glad I could help."

Rosethorn nodded, this time unable to speak due to the flattery and gratitude—she smiled instead. This felt right. This felt like home, a place where she was safe and sheltered while at the same time free to fly and experience unnamed wonders. Having thought of this, she decided to speak of it.

"This feels right," she said softly as she rested her temple on Lark's collarbone. "This feels like home."

It was Lark's turn to nod; she held Rosethorn closer with her gentle but strong arms.

It was different from what she'd experienced before. Not only in gender. With Arua everything had become guarded, and Rosethorn had known she needed to leave… It had been when she was an adolescent, anyway. That was far past. Crane was completely different. She had fallen for him over the course of a few months and been with him for years. When he started to change and adopt the more aristocratic ways she had been heartbroken.

But this…this was right. The knots weren't coming undone, for once. With Lark at her side she could feel all the knots being tied in all the right places. This was what she had been searching for.

"Rosie, where did you go?" Lark whispered softly into the woman's hair. Her breath was warm.

"Just memories," Rosethorn replied with a slight smile. When she tilted her head to once again find a view of Lark's eyes, the thread mage was smiling back. Her eyes offered the green mage wonderful, thrilling stories and triumphant adventures through dark and excellent times. Rosethorn's smile widened. She'd follow Lark, and Lark would follow her. Through those times, they would be there hand in hand, following their hearts and going places they'd never imagined. The thought stirred a youthful, adventurous feeling in the pale-skinned woman.

For a brief moment Rosethorn wondered when Crane would find this. She wished with all her heart he would; she wished to see him this happy, this at home. This completely comfortable with another being. He was running from more than she could imagine, not only portions of his past, either. All his paces were gallops, even if in the true life most saw all his paces were below a run. A gentleman will never run.

Rosethorn continued smiling. Crane would find it someday. Behind the masks and walls he was an extraordinary human being: it was just hard to find sometimes. He'd find someone who could see it at all times.

She wondered how some people in some places during some times, even the present, believed her love was wrong. Immoral. Worthy of going straight to deep, dark, fiery pits of doom, despair, and torture. A little sarcastic curve took to her lips. An ironic fate for such a wonderful, enlightening, and soft love.

"What are you grinning about now?" Lark inquired as she saw the smile turn into something new.

Rosethorn relayed the thoughts to the questioning female. Upon finishing, Lark laughed out loud. The sound rang loud and clear, straight from within and right out into the world. The plant mage adored the sound.

"A fiery pit doesn't sound too horrible, but only if it's holding our passion," the dark-haired female joked. Her grin was lopsided. Rosethorn giggled and poked the woman in the side.

"That would have to be one large pit."

Lark's eyes took on a hunger Rosethorn knew well, especially since her own eyes reflected it. The older woman leaned back and looked up at the green mage passionately. Smiling, Rosethorn pushed her back until she was flat on the soft grass and kissed her softly on one high cheekbone.

They both giggled as Rosethorn began to toy with Lark's glossy dark curls. It was amazing to be so silly while so deeply infatuated.