To Cambree, Cinnabar is safety. She trusts him.
His firm conviction solidifies those feelings and, for a fleeting moment, her sweet, native smile appears.
There must a blending of the old with the new happening here. Cambree recognized this when her young cousin relayed her dream to its end. There is a tug at her heart when she glances at Cinnabar to whom, for his grayest hours, she has been a light. Her gaze speaks an eternal message, known to every tribe, before the quilt is dropped from her shoulders, caught at the elbows, and she views her cousin. She can make sense of this. She can. She’ll try to do so without resorting to a language that her beloved cannot understand.
“A dream is a symbol of truths,â€