joie

Love is tears of joy, this is the baptism of fingers. (L'amour, c'est larme de joie, - C'est le baptême des doigts)

Traigh came to help her dismount, a broad smile making creases around his eyes. __ fear ye missed our summer, Joie._ Her brow drew in with confusion. __ut it is summer, Traigh,_ she told him. __ye, it might well be summer elsewhere in the world, but here, it only last three days. We had our summer last week.