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

gods could be fickle things, but not the gods of blackfeather. since her belief had become conscious, relmyna had been granted a great gift in her abilities to communicate, in her children, in the way that blackfeather had strengthened, her own ascent to the dark brotherhood, and leadership. and all of this had been surrounded by her fervent and unshaking worship. it was hard not to credit the deities of the dark weald, and so she would not take that from them.
wintersbane, relmyna decided, was of great worth to the wood. hale, fine of form, and conscious of the magick within blackfeather. a smile brightened her gaze; she dipped her muzzle to him in a respectful bow for the time he had spent with her at the altar, a gesture that he was free to depart. there was no doubt within relmyna that had she need of the moon-touched man again, he would attend her with the same humble alacrity.