Sanshoku’s lantern eyes lit up from within. Her tail wagged slowly, and a small smile curved its way over her lips. “I would be honored if you did, little bird,” she breathed. “Know that if you do, none will harm you again. For you will be mine, and mine alone. Are you ready for that, my little bird?”

The breeze danced around them, and Sanshoku’s nose twitched as it brought her Rambaldi’s musk of fog and ice, of wounded bird and proud cat. She stood perfectly still, awaiting his answer.