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Commiseration
Rosy and Maren served us jellied cow heart on rye bread steamed in fresh colostrum. I sat beside Yolanda, across from Jarnja and Heith, with Fylja in the middle. Rosy had used her freshly learned healing skills to apply poultices to our scrapes and bruises – "Just like jelly!" she had exclaimed, dabbing them onto Yola, Jarnja, and I's wounds as the three of us sat in such thick silence, it could be cut like fat from an auroch.
We ate without a word until my younger sister could contain her twelve year old exuberance no more.Rosy oogled Yolanda: "Yolanda! My best friend! You are alive, my, why, this is the best day EVER."Yolanda smiled, flexing her biceps, enticing and gorgeous as the midnight sun in a leather tunic and buckskin trousers. A daggertooth dragon fang rested on a thong around her sandstone breast. Yola idly fingered it, then took it off her neck, and draped the necklace over Rosy's curling red locks. Rosy bounced on the balls of hRelated chapters
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Yolanda was scouting ahead and had been gone since dawn. Jarngrimr paced the deck, in wool leggings, a Waterman fishing jacket, and captain’s broadshirt and piratical black tricorn hat.She spied out her spyglass up atop the rigging, muttered to herself, and climbed down, her long, silky, nixen hair furling out like a nixie’s ruddy black mane.She glimmered at me, hopping off the rigs and sails in gold black boots lined with polar bear fur, and grabbed my waist, hauling me up into her arms.“I ache for a fight, dear Turiel,” Jarnja simmered, yellow fire in her violet black eyes.I laughed, tickling her chin. “Jarnja, we must tie the rigging into half quarterstaff, and move the prow widdershins.”“You know how to sail Naglfari?” she asked, inquisitive.“I’m a quick learner. When Dominic was asking how to woo Yuriel, I asked him to teach me the Watermen Ways in return.”Q
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