Herbalists' Cache but my aching soul

"i did not peg you as the type to take strays, blackfell," she remarked, a hint of surprise in her voice. she had encountered the girl just a few days earlier. gjalla was notorious for making snap judgments, and despite the yearling's inexperience, she found the girl’s spirit striking enough. blackfell, too, must have seen it if he took her to ward.

perhaps, in time, they would both come to see her as part of their small circle. blackfell had yet to share the story of their fateful meeting, leaving gjalla curious. "How did you end up with this one?"

she rolled onto her back, stretching out beside him in a deliberate display of ease when he spoke again. periwinkle eyes burned as she stared at the darkening sky above them. she knew the girl was still adjusting, still learning, and it had become her problem because Blackfell had made her theirs, whether gjalla had agreed to it or not.

"three days, then," she murmured, voice husky, taunting, before drawing back with a satisfied hum.