Elvira threw her arms around Wivior's waist. Her face shoved into his chest, her body pressed and clung onto him. They became one, and she allowed her emotions to speak inaudibly. Wivior was her safe place, full of warmth, love, and life. There was just so much to say to him. But why were his hands dangling by his sides and not warming her back?
"Do you have the staff with you?" Wivior's tone was cold and blunt.
"Yes." Elvira's hands shivered while giving him the pouch. "I stole the grey staff for you."
Wivior shot her a look of disbelief. He opened the pouch and took out the grey staff in its actual size. The grey jewel's bedazzling multi-colors reflected in his eyes. He grazed his fingers along the length in amazement.
"How did you?" Wivior's gaze pounced back at the staff. "King Agror wouldn't just hand such an important conquered relic of ours to anyone."