Summer deepened around Frostfall Citadel in the weeks after the ceremony.
The days stayed long and the garden was in its full expression and the Bond Welfare office had its cases and its correspondence and the steady purposeful rhythm of work that was genuinely alive and the cherry tree against the eastern wall had moved past its flowers into its first small fruits, green still, weeks from ripeness, but present, unmistakably present, evidence of what a late planting could become with consistent attention.
She had a letter from Cassia on a Tuesday.
My wolf came fully home last week. I will not dramatize it. It happened quietly, in the early morning, the way important things seem to happen. She was simply there. All the way there. I have been afraid to write it in case writing it made it
