that wild wind still blows

They were lovely, and even Vervain’s melancholy couldn’t take away from that. She drank it all in as she followed Melita up and onto the boardwalk, hopping over the same creaky board and breathing in deep the smell of woodsmoke and brine, gulls calling overhead, waves slapping against the pier. Surprised by the girl’s remark, Vai’s lips curled into a soft smile again, and she nodded gently. ”Yes,” she said. ”Yes, I do still have him. And that is the main thing.” Taking a deep breath and letting it out again, the huntress seemed to rally, picking up the pace to walk with Melita again. ”Now, where is this Ark of yours?” vervain where the wild things are