Suddenly tired, Raven did as Osceola bid him. When he woke, she was gone. Beside him lay a small bouquet of rowan berries, twigs and raven wings. Taking it up, he held it carefully, sensing that this was something important. Where his clothing had been, tattered and worn, lay a fine suit of dark blue and black. The boots were soft, black leather that caressed his feet. The entire suit, from the undergarments up, made his skin tingle deliciously, as if Osceola’s hands traveled his body with unerring familiarity.
Taking up the bouquet, he put it through the slit in his lapel, adjusting it so the feathers fanned upward. Pleased with his appearance, he took up his belongings to head back to the cottage. Knowing he would not see Osceola again, unless she wanted him to, he cast his thanks upon the waves and wind.
“It was both magical and…
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