The man lifted the wren gently from his shoulder and lifted it to his lips.
“Take more care,” he whispered in its ear. “The war may be over, but for a nestling like you, the woods still hold many dangers.”
The bird cocked its head, as if listening to the advice, then it sprang into flight. The tressym, still lying at the woman’s feet, lifted its head sharply, then glanced up at its mistress and decided against pursuit.
Lisa Smedman The man at last answered the gray-haired woman’s question. “I’m a creature of the great forest,” he told her, “and the forest needs our protection, still. The drow are growing in boldness and number-” his eye fell on the carving on the standing stone-“and someone has to ensure that the ancient pact is honored.”
The gray-haired woman nodded. “And you?” she asked the younger woman.
“I’m returning to Selgaunt,” the woman answered. “I want to see my family again and study in Sune’s temple. Perhaps,” she added, a mischievous smile on her face, “I may ask my father to donate a little of the family fortune toward setting up a place of worship dedicated to the goddesses: Sune and Hanali Celanil both. I’ve already decided on the vestments the clerics will wear. They’ll be made from a cloth dyed Sune’s crimson, and embroidered in gold with Hanali Celanil’s hearts.”
The older woman nodded, a pleased look in her eye.
“May the goddess grant you your every wish,” the man said. He gave her a formal bow, both hands on his heart.
The younger woman smiled and started to place her hands on her own heart-then impulsively, she gave him a hug instead. As she broke away, laughing, the tressym at her feet brrowed, and looked up at her questioningly.
“Yes, Goldheart, it’s time we were off.” She turned to the older woman. “Good-bye, Rylith.”
“Farewell. We’ll see you again, soon enough. There’s much you’ve yet to learn about the elf goddess.”
“That’s true,” the woman said.
She kneeled beside the tressym, hands braced on the ground in front of her, and spoke the words of a prayer. Swiftly, a transformation came over her. She shrank, sprouted whiskers and fur, and wings grew from her shoulders. In another moment, she was indistinguishable from the tressym beside her, aside from the fact that her wings were a uniform crimson color, rather than a peacock’s rainbow.
Launching herself into the air, she flew away, the tressym following close behind.
On the ground below, the man and woman closed their eyes, savoring the floral scent she left in her wake.