Hushed Willows There's a warning written in the corners of your face

She definitely didn't understand what was going on. But that was alright; Reverie had never been among the most focused creatures the wilds had to offer. While Boone was more or less telling John off, clearly incensed by whatever the Holy Spirit was, Reverie was pressing her nose into his ruff and thinking herself far more subtle than she was. Even in his anger, Boone was distractingly handsome. His mention of beliefs stuck out to her, though.

After a few minutes and the painfully slow turning of a few cogs, Reverie realized — oh, this was about religion —

I'm sure the Holy Spirit is very nice, She added a little anxiously, finally prying herself away from her lovestruck inspection of her husband. Mother Rain; Father Fire. God, the father. For the first time in a very long time, the fear of her past was resurfacing. But, um, maybe we could - talk about something else. Do you like flowers, John?