Lost Creek Hollow espu[m]a

Doubt crept in and found it’s familiar place in his heart.

No one wants you this way, Crowfeather. No one will ever want to love you.

Silvertongue did not want it. She could have any man that she wished, after all. Why would she wish to live that way with a sad, three-legged, shameful man? Crowfeather was a limited life. He was not capable. He was not strong. He could not make great things with his words or his actions. He was only a shadow who followed and kept to the dark.

The glass blue of her eyes was so close that he thought he could swim in them. Her smell so strong that his head felt filled with boozy fruits from the Pharaoh’s wares.

I’ll give you whatever you want, he said without stammering. The dark figure stirred.