Blackfeather Woods i've got elastic bands keeping my shoes on

Anansi. For reasons she couldn't explain, the boy reminded Maegi of her brother, Euron, lost to her forever (or so it often seemed). She dropped low with a coo, bringing her muzzle to his roly-poly form and beginning to smooth his down with her tongue. So soft, so smooth. He smelled like earthy things, like the cool dark inside of a cave.

Peryite, mīsagon ñuha tresy, she whispered against his tiny head. Issa sīr jorrāelagon naejot nyke.

It had been a long time since she had felt love like this, beyond her love for Ramsay, which was a given. Once, she had loved Mou this fervently—but he was gone, and beginning to sink into the background of all the troubles she had faced over the past moon or two. Nirgali and Ninazu, sure, but that was twisted, warped. Not like this. Not pure like this.

Like a wound from the heart, out poured love, and Maegi couldn't—wouldn't—stem the tide. She rolled over onto her side, nuzzling Anansi before pulling back to stare at him in awe.