I Can't Be Mated to Him
My patience is quickly wearing out too, and I don’t have a little person dancing a jig on my insides.
Slowly, the rest of the crowd gathers. Every day, it’s a little smaller, but I haven’t yet seen a ritual without at least one representative of each kingdom. At this point, it’s mostly a blessing and promise, a few hours later, that some far away part of Escuro has sprung back to life. There’s a feeling in the air like the end of a ball, when everyone is waiting for the clock to strike midnight so they can go home. And midnight—in this case, the equinox—is fast approaching. That’s what drags my gaze across the crowd to where the group from Snowcrest Canyon always stands.
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