Valley of Gold i wear my soul on my sleeve at night

It was good she didn't stick her nose right in it. Probably even better that Dusty Rose still stood a ways off from the point of interest.

"Listen," he said, sotto voce, one ear cupped toward the offending buzz. "You hear that?"

There was a scent, too — something hot and heavy. Damp earth made sweet by an unearthly drip. Honey. Something Dusty Rose had tasted only once in his life, thanks to the efforts of his loving father. He wasn't sure he was up for the same effort today.

"That sound means something dangerous," he told her, his voice serious. "I'm gonna show you and you'll be safe with me, but we gotta be ready to run, just in case. Got it?"