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Raging Star Moira Young 21140K 2023-09-02

Oh! Her hand flew to her throat You made me jump, she said What’re you doin?

Checkin on the horses, he said

She went to Prue’s stall to stroke her nose No Herone to in

He bit off his frustration Seeo

But Molly was in no hurry Fussing Prue’s ears, stroking her neck, she took in his coat with a quizzical look Cooled down already? she said

He had no hope of catching up with Saba now He’d left it too late Another chance blown He shrugged off his coat and draped it around Molly’s shoulders Don’t catch a chill, he said

So gallant, she said with a smile She smelled of war She always had that effect on him Her smile, her smell, her beauty

In a hot rush, he had her in his ar Touching Hungrily Breathlessly

She pulled away Put her fingers to his lips Soawd, she said, what you do to ht me, he said

A frown creased her forehead I shouldn’t of, she said We should never of started this I never meant to, really, I didn’t

I know, he said I’m a boy, we ain’t in love, you still love Ike

I want you to have what I had with him, she said

Her breath brushed him sweetly One of these days I will, he said So I need to kno to please a woman Yer teachin me That’s all this is

They stared at each other for a an to curve her lips Lesson time, she said

Then she took his hand in hers And she led him away to the woods

NIGHT SIX

ME AN HERMES COME AT THE BUNKER FROM THE NORTH I ain’t familiar with this approach, so despite I’m on the lookout fer it, we cout We’re on top of a low ridge a some trees

Here it is The little hill In the rass meadow It looks a hill like any other You’d never think it held such a secret at its heart The Wrecker bunker, deep within The white roo-lost world The visions that I itness to

An here I a myself down from Hermes an look out over the meadow Where he kissed rass, with h the woods, to his bed by Weepin Water Where I gave myself to him Took him fer my first Where I lost myself in him an nearly didn’t come back

The hilltop’s bin cleared of blackberry bramble Gone, the rich fruit that smothered its slopes, that sweetened that hot suround’s hard with stubble, silvered an shaded by the htpip kriks, quick an scratchy Then it calls agin Then, Saba! Over here!