Hushed Willows Hot when its cold

The girl was young — she said it was her first heat — and, understandably, she was nervous. There was so much nay-say about a woman’s season that it wasn’t really a surprise. All she had ever heard from other women was that it was an inconvenience and a dangerous state. but her own mother had instructed her that is was a sacred thing and deserving of admiration, for it was the ability to create life that separated woman from men and made them holy. 

Seeing as this young thing did not have her mother here to guide her as Olive once did, the druid took it upon herself. The dove fluttered closer. “No, understand me…”  she said with a cant of the head, asking her to cast aside the notions she had been taught. “You are safe here. The wolves who reside here only believe in goodness.” Elsewhere in the world, there might be men who prayed upon young women, alone and in-season — but not here.

With a smile, Olive let her own sense of vivaciousness, emanating from the pit of her stomach to overtake her. “You should be celebrating your womanhood, not worrying about it!”  she exclaimed, waving her tail.“What’s your name?”