Alas, I highly doubt Cloudwalking drinks liquor. I'll make her some nice ice cold lemonade and then cook her a nice dinner, which we will eat on a taple with candles lighting our souls. Closer we will come as I slowly caress her hair, the long strands smoothly run through my fingers like the river. Like a flower in the winter cold, she is not ready to open. Yet slowly she loosens up as I make her comfortable; all flowers bloom, especially the beautiful ones. And this beautiful flower blooms under the moon as I take her there.