#Gale really the epitome of <333 they're made with Love <3333

[recitedemise]

Hallow tugs twice at a strand of the wizard’s hair to get his attention from the book he’s reading before pulling a few jars of spices out of her pockets for him. “Coriander. Dried pepper flakes. Saffron.” Hallow notes, rattling each jar at him, “And some vanilla beans. You said you wanted something sweet, found some honey too.”

Hey! She nearly plucked that grey hair! Gosh. Age must have gentled his patience a little. Were he a decade younger, any obstacle to his readings were held like a blight. However, Gale is now trudging along four scores of summers, and as it were, Hallow is not a person one could ever grow worn of. No. She settles in beside him, and his night brightens some.

"Had I not known any better," and trust him, he does, "your boundless generosity would continue to surprise me." Gale smiles, the crimp of it oh so teasing, and the faint lines about his eyes scrunched up fine. Finally, he sets his book away, a manual on matters about their great stars' turning, and here, he whisks up some sweetcakes as the campfire roars. There's a heaping of flour. And some jam-steeped berries. And even in the wilderness, he's concocts what would warm the heart, the grove smelling wonderfully of summertime and sugar--and the look he gives her is just as sweet.

"Careful. It's hot," he warns, the humble skillet-cake steaming as it rests on her plate. "And just sweet enough as to absolve you of guilt. But I should warn you, it's far from just honey that'd make these irresistible. Whatever comes fashioned by my hands comes fashioned with tenderness. If you aren't abundantly careful, I might give you a cavity." He leans back with a laugh, something more endearing than awkward. "With our day, you could use some pampering. I could be led to believe you'd never had."