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[madswilding.livejournal.com]

The middle of the night…

It's quite late, but Mads hadn't been able to sleep--which isn't unusual. The first few nights he's back out in the woods, he's usually wide-awake--enjoying the sounds and movements of the life there. So, he's left Ioan sleeping soundly in their sleeping bag and is stretched along a low branch of a tree. His lover is sleeping within sight, not more than twenty feet away. The Wilding's eyes are closed and his head leaned back against the trunk of the tree, just listening and feeling. Freya is perched on a branch just above his head, preening herself.