Lost Creek Hollow meus

tears — the stinging bite of them in his own gaze as the shadow unfolded and refurled in his arms.

breath let out to wander through the jetstone hairs of the nape he had wished to kiss a thousand times.

his arm came up softly at first, and then firmly; he sought to offer the solidity of his body and be assured by that which crowfeather offered; "i thought of you each day," into the curve of the delicate fluttering ear.