Twisted Slough An isle of flightless birds

she had not expected him to approach, but he did so, all legs and careful steps against the lash of the wind. friendly enough; the harlot rose and gave a visible sway of her tail before she too picked a cautious path toward the boy. he was dark ash and ebony; even this far she could note the keen burnished hue of his bright eyes.
and now she was within earshot of any words he might speak; the woman fixed her two-toned eyes upon him. he reminded her of jarilo, the boy from the mountain who had once escorted her through exploration of the night. but where that one had been wary, this one was younger, more open in his expression.
a smile curved her lips momentarily. "hello."