Swiftcurrent Creek [m] half a mind that keeps the other second guessing

wren spoke; an outpouring, and suddenly she was a fiery stranger no longer, but a woman who murmured belladonna and provided silvertongue a fierce level of immediate intimacy that softened the glassblue eyes and dropped the last of the coolness away; until reflected in silvertongue was wren and then the taller woman again, and she felt her chin tremble, and shook her head fiercely, swallowing with a painful smile that soon had the touch of bitter salt behind it. "i am angry too," the sharpfang heard herself whisper; "i have loved one my entire life and he will never love me in return, not the way i want him to love me." oh; to say it was to put down such a burden, a battered suitcase with briars bitten into the handle; and, with a small, self-deprecating laugh, she finally saw with sharp realization the shadow she sought in both akavir and arric.