Rory strides to her, and Freya releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The shadow of his wide grin still on his face, the raw power of Midsummer pulsating in the air around him. The outer edges reach her, teasing the powers locked inside of her, urging them to come out. She almost takes a step back from the immensity of it. Almost.
She stands firm. Not backing away from her powers, or Rory's, or even Rory in general. The crown of sun still wrapped around his ruby hair. The golden rays sparkling off of him from his hair to his cheeks, to his chest peeking under the loose linen shirt. Even his clothes twinkle, making the golden amber in his eyes even brighter as they intently focus on her. Most likely gauging Freya's emotions, trying to predetermine what her answer will be.
