that wild wind still blows

Vai’s imagination could indeed fill in all of those blanks, and the twist in her expression showed well that she was thinking twice about the wondrous, wave walking birds. Yeah, no thanks. But all of that faded to the back of her mind as she caught Melita’s reaction, a mixture of confusion and worry coming over the huntress until her companion spoke. And when she did, Vai graced her with a very unladylike snort and a peal of laughter, shaking her head. ”No, no!” She giggled. ”No, I mean he grew up,” she said. ”He’s a strapping young man now. Looks just like his father.” Who was definitely not a bumbling great baby wobbling through the woods, she might add. vervain where the wild things are