Blackfeather Woods her face it bloomed like a sweet flower [m]

the spirits moved roundabout them, and relmyna found herself drawn to the sussuration of their voices upon the wind. she had not been long for serving the mother and the dark one with fire-tipped tongue; yet what she knew of her life had been devoted, even unto the vessel of her body. had she not brought forth new daughters of melonii blood, new heirs by their birthright to the throne of blackfeather? why now would she ever question her own devotion to the gods that walked in raven-studded darkness? it was with this resolution she moved, for kove would know the palm of god upon him if his listener had anything to do with it.
the man at her side remained silent, and she too was grateful for the lack of words between them. softly she began a low croon, a quiet ribbon of sound that wended slowly beneath the pressure of unseen tongues in the air. for a moment relmnyna wondered if her companion worshipped any deities of his own, for his silvered presence was reverent in a way she had not expected. it was with new eyes that the priestess glanced to wintersbane. what will you ask of the mother this hour? came her soft mouthing — he had been a witness and a testament to her rite, and she saw no reason to exclude him from its power.