Broken Antler Fen spinefire

"fitting," she offered in response. penn blackthorn. she did not think she had come across the name in her travels. he was a pretty sort, though with a rangy attitude that sundance had lacked. she shook her head. "only thinking."
often she wished she was not mindful of her own muted nature. galaxies wheeled behind her eyes, but the violet lacked the words to describe them. "but," and instead of finishing the thought, she indicated the way that a nearby bush had begun to tremble. "a storm," the raven declared.