The Heartwood please swirl me in your mind, so i can be a color painting that you’ll look upon

Once again, Rannoch’s opinion of the situation mirrored her own. Perhaps the two had more in common than meets the eye. For a brief second her gaze fell upon Terance, silent and stoic, and wondered what he made of this whole situation. He had been pretty amicable with the three dark sisters, if her memory served her correctly. Were his intentions as true as Rannoch’s?

The sylph bobbled her lithe head in agreement. “One can only hope.” If it did not worry Rannoch, then it did not worry her. In fact, throughout this entire interaction, Olive had warmed up to an idea that [until this moment] had managed to escape her: packhood. After her relationship with Arturo collapsed in on itself like a dying star, her loyalties had seemed to waver indefinitely; she had a difficult time pledging her body and soul to another, to make herself so vulnerable and open to pain, and responsible for so many. After Teaghlaigh, no single leader had been worth the sacrifice — but this guy, she could follow. It was easy to see that they upheld similar values. 

Olive gently cleared her throat, then spoke with a little more volume and intention. “Do you have room for another…?” she inquired, ears pressed forward in extreme hope, with a mildly expectant smile dancing upon her lips. It just felt right.