Dawnlark Plains bone canticle

"but you are not safe with me." the response was instant, unthinking; he felt the french and the gaelic stirring together inside him, printing words on the inside of his eyelids.
it was validating to see elodie respond the way that he felt. all her body proclaimed the fear of those in his stories, the ones he had seen. they were indeed terrifying and lestan found himself sundered with an ugly ache, that akavir, his own blood, had been so dismissive.
he inhaled a shaking breath. "t-thank you, elodie, f-for listening." the mayfair was reduced now, exhausted; he lay down where he had been speaking, and the rain came for them both in a whistling deluge.