She looked over at him with a smile before unrolling his bedroll. "Once upon a time," she began, "there was a fly who was in love with a moth."
She smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric before sitting off to the side. "He tried to think otherwise. Sometimes, he thought that he had succeeded. He drank the wine in an abandoned bottle by an old pub, and as the barkeep unlocked the door for the evening, he felt a satisfaction he hadn't felt in a long time. Moth was not for him. A housefly? In love with a moth? Ridiculous. He sat upon the windowsill, full and content." June rested her hands on the firepit, setting the logs alight before continuing her story. "But within the hour, he saw her out of the corner of his eyes. She had flown down from her perch, her wings white and feathery. Dust floated from her, and he watched her in awe as she delicately landed on the edge of the sill. The fly felt shame for having ever doubted his affections. He felt shame for even resting his eyes upon her. How could a creature of such gentleness and benevolence exist in the same world as he did? Moth was never unkind to him, even when considering his status. They had grown to be friends, Fly believed, and as he watched her that evening, he felt how heavy his heart was."
Zerras was quiet, setting out his bed with a small frown. He only listened, his brows furrowed as she spoke.
She continued, looking into the fire thoughtfully. "This particular evening, Moth was looking into the pub, her expression one of nervous apprehension. Fly joined her side, nervous as well, but for different reasons. 'Hello, Moth,'he said cordially, bowing his head. 'What are you looking at so keenly?' She turned to him, surprised to see him, before giving him a smile and turning back to the window. 'Hello, Fly. Every night, the barkeep lights a candle,' she told him. 'It's the best part of my day. It's beautiful.'" Juniper paused before looking up at Zerras with a small smile. "The Fly didn't see anything so entrancing about it," she explained. "He was aware of the candle that Moth spoke of, but to him, it was just another light source. However, he saw the way Moth's eyes rested on the unlit candle, her wings flapping with nervousness, and he decided to speak up. 'You know, I could get you close to the candle,' he told her. 'It's easy. I do it all the time.' Moth turned to look at him so quickly that he thought she would take flight.' 'You could?' she asked desperately, approaching him and taking his arms. 'Really, Fly?' The Fly felt his heartbeat quicken and he nodded, looking up at her beautiful face. 'O-of course I could,' he replied. 'Let's go right now.'"
He tilted his head curiously, sitting back on his bedding as watched her. He actually did seem interested, his head tilted slightly and violet eyes shining beside the fire.
Juniper watched him for a moment before looking back down at the fire. "Fly showed Moth how to crawl between the door and the floor, showing her the tiny space between the two. It was difficult for her to fit her wings in, but she managed, laughing off the incident. Moth was like that; gentle and optimistic to a fault. When they emerged, the barkeep had just finished lighting the candle, the flame flickering in the dark room. She took a deep breath before looking over at him. 'Can we get closer?' The Fly nodded and they both took to the air, heading towards the candle. The Fly and the Moth landed on the bar and sat, each of them staring at the object of their affections. The Fly noticed how neatly her wings folded, and how her smile appeared like she was unable to help herself. She shook her head and there were tears in her eyes as she watched. 'I'm going to get closer,' she told him quietly, flapping her wings. 'Be careful,' he warned, taking to the air too. 'Don't get too close.' She nodded before flying forward a couple of inches. As he watched, though, she didn't dipped back towards the counter. Instead, she flew straight towards the flame, as if possessed. The Fly saw this and flew after her, moving as quickly as he could." Juniper hesitated before shaking her head. "But he was too late. He watched as she dipped around the candle, and he watched as her beautiful wings turned black. Moth dropped to the counter and Fly took her in his arms. She looked up at him, but as he watched, her gaze slid away from him and rested on the flickering candle above her. Fly wept and Moth died quietly in his arms."
He was still silent, watching her as if expecting more. He hesitated, looking down. "Is that the end? It doesn't seem like the type of story you'd like.."
She laughed, sounding a little sheepish as she laid back, looking up at the stars. "I always liked sad stories," she said, tilting her head. "As long as I knew that the people in them weren't real, I liked them." She paused before looking over at him. "Sorry. Kinda dampened the mood, huh?"
He shook his head slightly, lying back on the blanket. "No, it's alright. You didn't dampen the mood."
She considered him before turning onto her side, looking at him. "Surely you have some story that's not about your conquests."
She gave him a soft smile, tilting her head a little as she watched him. “Your eyes are lovely,” she told him quietly.
He flushed a little, his eyes focused on her. The fire light cast heavy shadows, darkening one side of his face as he watched her. Clearly we wasn't expecting a compliment. "Thank you."
She watched him for a moment before looking down again, avoiding his gaze as she shifted to get more comfortable.
"We really ought to get bedrolls, June," he commented. "I feel bad having you sleep on only your cloaks."
She flushed a little, the tips of her ears turning a little pink as she considered him. “I’m alright,” she said, tilting her head. “I’ve been managing for quite a bit now. I don’t know if you noticed.”
