Author's Note(s): This is very unedited and written within about a half an hour on my phone, so I apologize for any mistakes.
Crickets could be heard below in bushes as the moon illuminated the night-fallen sky and cast light on the drops of Orc blood scattered below.
In a tree above the forest floor, an elf leaned against the wood polishing his dagger, a scowl on his face.
"I think you focus more on cleaning your weapons in the aftermath of battle, than you do during the fight." Chided another elf, sitting a few feet away, swinging her legs off the branch and scaling the tree as she watched him from the corner of her eye, somewhat impressed at his vigilance, though, she would never tell.
A deepened scowl and a, "Tch..." were all he responded with, but if she were anyone else, they would get much more. When it was her, he could never bring himself to be very angry, perhaps at first - but no longer. Mikasa Ackerman, elven guard to the woodland Queen; placed under him for training she had eventually become his right-hand, both in combat and not.
He looked upwards to her, now twenty-something feet above him, "And watch yourself... I'm not carrying you back home if you fall." He muttered, probably not loud enough for her to hear, and reached for his bow.
"Levi!" She called down to him below, striking his attention to the tall of the tree once more. "Come up here, you must see this."
With a sigh, he grabbed his weapons and began his way skyward, up to near the very tops of the trees where the branches thinned out too much for most mortals to climb, but they were not mortals, and elves are remarkably light on their feet.
He spread the branches and came towards her, closer than before, their fingertips brushing together as he sat down — he did not notice the faint rose-pink blush grace her pale cheeks.
"The moon and the stars... They're beautiful from up here, aren't they..." She remarked as she stared on at the sight before them, tree-tops dusted with a light snow, a sign of the coming of winter.
"They are..." He agreed, though, not as focused on the scenery as on the elven maiden beside him.
"Are you cold?" She asks, a tinge of nervousness in her voice.
"Mikasa, we are elves, much more resistant to temperature than mortal folk. It's barely the end of the season." He questions her, admittedly slightly confused, and rather oblivious.
"I was just checking..." She sighed in defeat, looking in the opposite direction.
A silence filled the ear for a moment as she gathered the courage to speak.
It came out in a whisper as her voice betrayed her usual air of confidence and her heartbeat hammered in her chest, "If you do get cold, you can always share my scarf..."
"Oh..." That scarf she always wore, some keepsake from her brother, she said... He eyed her and her scarf from the corner of his eye, not wanting to admit he was beginning to feel the temperature change himself, he settled for tugging on the edge of her scarf, hoping she would pick up on the message.
She smiled at him softly as she reached over and wrapped the soft red fabric around his shoulders, securing it around both of their bodies in front, he did not see this, though, as he avoided her gaze not for the last time this night.
In the comfortable silence that followed, he took her hand under the makeshift blanket, interlacing their fingers together, and neither said another word until it was time to return home for sleep and preparation for another day of battle.