Grimwood was a fairly melancholy sort, but he had found an unexpected amount of companionship in a certain kimeti doe that he had spent some time with, and found himself engaging in a quite pleasant relationship, which was a surprise to no-one more than himself. He wasn’t especially brilliantly clever, nor was he strong or (in his own opinion) particularly noteworthy in any way. But what he was was courteous and kind, and he did have a way with words on occasion, and somehow the beautiful doe was impressed enough to entertain his company. Now that I Have Loved the Stars was expecting their children, Grimwood was uncharacteristically optimistic (for him), and firmly devoted to providing her with as much comfort as she could possibly need.
Of course it turned out that that meant more than poetic comparisons to the night sky, but Grimwood was willing. And so he found himself out on a late summer evening, the air still fairly warm, seeking some damp moss to bring to the doe to help cool her a little in the stifling air. He shared with her a dislike of the warmer months, wishing for the return of long clear nights for stargazing and secrets.
