Lost Creek Hollow Butterflyfish

in the peak of her season, silvertongue raised her head. she was not far from crowfeather these days; in fact she had stayed as close to her fellow star as he allowed — or wished, taking the warmth and ardor of his body and offering her own. but she knew this voice. she knew it, for it reverberated in her head. silvertongue unwound herself and melted into the river-shadows. her eyes were a confrontation as she arrived in all her fragrant splendor to regard the roman with utter coldness.