Seaside Moors raspberry pink lemonade

Kaertok right now, making connections:

Five months. His own were about four months, and he was confident in their ability to survive on their own if they had to. At least Valravn was not an infant. If he had been, Kaertok doubted the boy would have anything but a grim outcome.

There was another connection, though. It had been roughly a month before his own children had been born that he had last seen Raleska. She had made no indication that her children had survived, and Kaertok had assumed that they hadn't. Did that mean this one was one of hers? He had thought all of the children were Rosalyn's or Erzulie's. And maybe that was the way Raleska had wanted it. Kaertok remembered nothing of what her blood children had looked like, as all his attention had been on her, not the mewling babes at her side.

That is good news, Kaertok replied. For all the thinking he did, he was not about to ask her whether or not Valravn was her own blood. It did not matter. What mattered was that they found him alive and well. He was part of Rusalka, which meant that he mattered.