Moonspear [m] listening to fear

When he woke to that scent—familiar, by now—Talisman felt like he was in another fever dream. Perhaps he was. He slunk from the healing ulaq and drifted around the mountainside in a sort of daze. His nose led him through the misty moonbeams until he spotted her: a pale, striking vision.

Her gravity tugged him toward her, though his spirit suddenly shied away. This felt almost like a dream. But what if it turned out to be a nightmare? What if she spurned him, just like the women of The Tribe? His pale eyes were wide and guileless as he beheld her, begging silently for acceptance he likely didn’t deserve.