Phoenix Maplewood graphite

Druid did not interrupt Wealda’s assessment, though her two-toned eyes widened a little. She could tell all of that from—what, her scent? She was impressed. She pondered the rest of her new acquaintance’s inferences. Well, she wasn’t wrong.

You said my claim is strong, she said, but it isn’t. Yes, there’s several of us, but we’re hardly united. And I’m not even sure where I fit in, especially as the kids get older. My sister and her… situationship… they’re the ones who fit the more traditional mold: parenthood, leadership, all of that. Me? Not so much.

Case in point: the magnetism she felt today. Druid suddenly wondered if there was any possibility Wealda felt it too. She doubted it. And unless her own deductions were way off base, she had a male mate. He might be gone but Wealda was clearly hoping he would return.

Not for lack of trying, Druid continued after a beat, and I love Rivenwood. I was born there. I hope to die there. I’m just not sure where I belong in the meantime, you know?

No, she probably didn’t know, Druid thought with a rueful smile.