Sleepy Fox Hollow Away, tryna be somebody else

Anselm resented hearing his name in her mouth. It soured him further, eliciting a curl of his lips in silent response. 

He liked that she spoke the lyrical language of Etienne’s home even less. His ears cupped forward, a surprised glance given the healer’s way to measure his reaction. 

She came with a coven. Would they bleed his stores dry and then up and leave, as Raindrop had done? Anselm opened his home up before, albeit reluctantly — and in the end he’d been right with his instincts. 

He stood still, aware of the hard gaze of the widow pressed upon him. What was it she wanted to say now?