The Heartwood blackwound

teya's pulse seemed to race and expand into a rosy dancing that chased away any misgivings. she did not think about sorana. she did not think about reyes. it was bridget that the raven could not quite force from her mind, the soft look and the direct tone of the cardinal's voice holding fast at the back of her brimming thoughts.
reno was speaking and teya tied herself to the drawl. "what kind of grit do you wash away?" the little violet asked before she thought, asked before she processed and listened to what it is she was saying.
on impulse she leant against sayf, enjoying the strength of his body and the way he warmed the skin beneath the soft pelt there; teya felt electrified.