Gyrfalcon's Keep bo'ijani

The fae immediately understood why the woman muted and voiceless. Her voice was a peculiar thing; her vocal chords brought forth raspy and forced tones that obscured her simple sentiment. Her speech came as a momentary shock to Olive not only for its modulation, but because Olive had been reveling in the elegant silence of their embrace.  Olive felt the vibrations as her head lay against Indrani’s neck and raised her head to look the white specter’s visage, her mind racing with question.

But Olive spoke non of her questions and smiling genuinely at her, expressing a silent you’re welcome. Olive backpedaled a step, giving the woman’s vulnerability a buffer zone – but she seemed bothered not, at least outwardly. Instead she looked towards the stars, which spoke infinitely and filled the margins between them. Olive followed, as she always did, craning her head upwards as she had done time and time again. Her mother used to tease her about this, exclaiming that her neck would stay that way should she continue to bend her slender frame.  The harlequin giggled to herself at the memory.

Suddenly, the eternal heavens opened and shone their light upon Olive. Perhaps, she mused, the wolves in her vision were not Indrani’s family, but her own brothers and sisters of Teaghlaigh? Olive turned her head towards to white wolf to speak; the words were spoken by her mortal body, but inspired by the gods.

“You don’t have a family… but, would you like one?