There is a wilting flower of a man at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at me like he’s never seen a fey before, and I gently alight on the floor, my wings spread for a moment before I tuck them, subconsciously, in against my back tightly. ”Hello! I am Tarasha.” I call back brightly, reaching out to take his hand in that strange human custom. Despite the fact that he is not human.
”You’ve actually already helped me.” I smile, rubbing at my arms to fight off the dusty chill that pervades the basement. My fingers move over pink and blue and gold lines, thick and flowing over every visible bit of skin today. ”I haven’t been in the hall yet.” I laugh. Haven’t even been in the library, before this.”
Tarasha
the adnascentia of my soul will crack the earth
