Dragoncrest Cliffs gade zetwal yo

maleah was right, of course. every word was crafted for mireille to embrace, to understand. maybe, one day, to internalize. but for now she was only thinking of erzulie and rosalyn, how they would have wept alone! or perhaps only with their daughters and sisters and lovers.
that last brought thoughts of val. was he her lover? was she allowed to think of him in that way? who could stop her, mireille mused, but herself?
and so the question became: should she?
maleah's touch to her face brought mireille back to the present and the pain; unthinkingly, she reached up to cover the paw with her own, and for a moment they existed only in this way, and the backdrop of feminine beauty and its desires, always the backdrop of the obsidian's life, rose full and blossomed inside her.
maleah cared; she cared as if she had always been among them, and the redhead's throat was dry with it, the tears at last slowing their siege.