Verdigris Ravine the smoke between our fingers

They embrace, but such a fundamental overlap of space still feels dreamlike to her, even as she cradles the smaller woman's head against her shoulder, smoothing her hair back with a shaking hand.

Again? she murmurs into her fur, her voice watery, but she can hardly linger on it. Kusuma, you have a child?

She draws back to search her eyes, knows that the tremulous smile on her face must look ridiculous --

A boy or girl? What is it's name?

-- before gathering her into another hug, this time longer and more studied; she feels the coyjackal's heartbeat slow down and imagines that Kusuma could feel the same thing, the initial shock tapering into a dizzy relief, so powerful that every nerve of her is tricked into experiencing real temperature: a scalding heat giving way to a chill real enough to provoke gooseflesh.