Swiftcurrent Creek Giselle

Mae was becoming a regular at Bellatrix's den, whether the woman liked it or not. Cygnet had been her sister before she was anything else, she still felt, and her sense of possession over the girl had not faded. Mae had been the one to spirit her away to safety, the one to hold her in those first moments of cold and blood and hunger.

In many ways she felt that the pale girl was hers even more than she had been Moss's.

You bored? Mae inquired around a mouthful of colorful feathers, walking up to the girl who was staring out the den. She dropped them on Cygnet's head in a scattering waterfall. Got you some feathers.