Swiftcurrent Creek tears of the sun

""

Since his consummation of a lifetime's lust with Jinx, the weatherwitch found himself both compelled toward her and strangely unsatisfied. Her slim curves and hips and the taste of her were his own jewels to hoard, and some selfish primality of his masculine mind wished that she would swell with his children, but he did not know why he was not sated in her utter worship of him.

Lecter had sought the rank of healer almost automatically within Lethe's ranks; it was what he was compelled by his God to do, and it was where the bulk of his skills lay. Dawnlight found him skulking around the far reaches of his leader's lands, seeking out a more secluded den than the one he had inhabited thus far, one musty with dust and rot, with clammy shelves on which to dry his herbs, and a small clearing he would litter with bones and blood in service of his god.

It occurred to him as he moved, the wintry chill having kindled a dull ache in his hips that had began earlier in the year, that this would be the last den he would dig, that these were the last rites he would perform, but he was not fearful of this. He was acceptant.