It shouldn't be hard for him to let her leave, she had things to do, Activities that needed her attention. It wasn't fair to ask for a little more time to speak with her, enjoy her company. Such luxuries were never meant to a Death guardian, his priestess made sure of that.
He would have to speak of those thoughts, perhaps with other stallions. What did one do when they found themselves pining for just a bit more of time? What did one do when you felt a small squeeze when she left? It was odd, and different and hard to understand.
He had the flap still open when she returned to him, he gaze just turning to meet her's as lips met flesh. It was so painfully quick and gone before he could even comprehend it that he just stood there blankly.
Anyone would see, as the tent flap drop, that Aeron's face had turned the brightest shade of red.