The Heartwood heilig

Dreven knew the power that was in names. It was often why he had given nicknames to so many. He had seen what happened when you took names away, or when you named something. It then became important. A separate entity to the name itself.

She said his name with a caress in her voice. A soft purl curled out of his chest as he watched her. She was easing up to him. His eyes briefly chased over the athletic structure of her body. Eyes following dips and lines. Then returned to her face with her question.

He pointed towards the Heartwood. Only the heartwood. We are the forsaken there.

He shifted and studied her. Do you have a pack, Minne?