Whitebark Stream look, this comes as no surprise.

unlike yura, when sobeille thought of ajei warmth misted her frame in fine dousing. her eyes climbed to yura’s face, studying — a familiarity there just beyond touch’s limitations.

she grunted in response to yura observing she carried none of the fragrance of a wolf in season.

an idea took root in her as spring does to winter thaw; nascent at first and growing until it became the roar of meltwater flowing down a mountain slope.

hearing another be so open with their sexuality thrilled sobeille. thus far, only chani had shared these things with her — and sobeille felt a yawning distance between them, for she could not bring herself to love a man or his body.

but this one, sobeille decided, could not be let go. if sivaak had taken her, why could she not take yura?

ya. i was there both years. nothing about stealing an eye or attempted murder. her face warmed with shame to remember ameline.

tell me more about what legacy be meanin’ to you. came sobeille’s insistent urge, followed by the hungry interest of her yellow gaze.