She doesn't move for another second or two.

Something about this moment is steadying. His hand in hers, her hand in his, the open air and space and freedom around her, just breathing, Beaut somewhere at her back, hoofbeats muted.



Eventually she nods, turns to press a kiss to his palm, and releases his hand. The other two can stay entwined as they walk back to their blanket.

"Y'don't, ah — y'don't have anywhere t'be tonight, do you?"