Deepwood Weald tropicalis

when he wished her well, she felt like being sick all over again.

then he touched her cheek. she could not help the tension in her haunches as he moved in close, but she did not move away, and she studied his face in fleeting glances after; wondering about the harvest, and whether the fortune of morningside would change if it went forgotten.

licking her lips, tasting of bile.

not knowing what else to do or say, she turned and slipped from his company to be among the ferns.