37. Clouds
"What do you see, Daeron?" she asks, pointing up at the patch of blue summer sky visible to the twosome from the small clearing in the forest where the pair lie side by side on their backs, gazing up at the clouds. Insects chirp around them, and a few birds can be heard singing. The bright green grass is soft beneath them, and this is lazy summer afternoon is passing by like many others of its sort: peacefully and unhurriedly.
"I see," says Daeron, "a nightingale perched on a branch." He indicates an oddly-shaped cloud, and she laughs.
"Ai, Daeron, you have too much imagination! It is clearly a harp."
He loves to see her laugh; as the afternoon slowly passes, he wishes it would never end.