Plucking a leaf from a flowering shrub, Boromir sniffed it, stroking with his dirty fingers. His eyes were watching the way the light moved on the glossy green, flowing and curving along the spine of the stem. Other eyes were watching his fingers, feeling their gentleness defying the horny callousses created by the sword hilt. He felt a secretly remembered touch along his spine, as the half-moons in the broken nails glimmered in the light they shared with the leaf. Boromir smiled, looking into the eyes of his King. "Your back has a spine far more beautiful than this."