Dahozhoni Meadow At least we loved hard, now didn’t we, baby?

Firstly stiff. Unsure, even, how to respond to an offered shoulder, and feeling an uncomfortable weight shift when it was allowed to lean. There was distrust for it, and uncertainty, until the first steps were taken and they did not feel as bad as the last ones. 

There was a more certain vulnerability in trusting a stranger.

"San-gre? San-gre."

And in trusting another woman, as well.

One of those big batty ears flicked. "Oh. Would have- To think. What about you? Is Sangre always been Sangre's name? Before coming here?"

 A sly smile slithered on her mouth. A coupled jest, "English not first language. Can tell?"