Dragoncrest Cliffs Polished

Peach!
She was peach; and as Chacal's hymn sounded, the symbolism, what the oysters' chosen hue for her meant, was pondered.
Her whole life had been one of bending her back for others, going where she was needed; her services and her knowledge were her worth. Straight-laced, back turned to the scent and sight of rot and cries of anguish. Sometimes thankless, and other times revered as a savior's profession.
And her lip wavered as she thought of it, how Sapphique offered her a place to rest her tired bones and be part of something so much greater. Playful, spirited and bright. A bleeding heart cherished, wrapped in warm cloth; women who could love her, a sisterhood; freedom. Sapphique offered her freedom.
She accepted her new recognition within these women as truly, truly one of them with a beam and shy ears bent sidelong, and it said so little of the relief and gratitude that she truly felt. Her eyes were what gave it away, big and wide and gleaming; bouncing from sister to sister as words seemed to escape her.