Dragoncrest Cliffs the devil in the belfry

her heart melts and threatens to melt all over as Erzulie speaks. she doesn't know how to respond. she looks at the woman, trying to parse her words. why would she care so much? why would she worry? it's a strange emotion, within her.

i. . . she looks at Rosalyn, sucking in a breath. she dips her chin at a distant spot on the horizon, toward where she thinks the mountain is. there's other crags, but they are higher—and with no frame of reference, she can't describe where exactly she's going.

she nods, more certainly. be bagh, she promises.

but not without the boy—she's certain of that. the fight to win him over will likely kill her—but so much has tried to do so already, right?