Mira busied herself tidying the scattered healing supplies, though Faelyn suspected it was more to give her hands something to do while she spoke.
"There's something you need to understand about being blessed," Mira said quietly, her back still turned. "About the three moon cycle grace period."
Faelyn tensed. "What about it?"
"It's not just a courtesy for choosing a mate." Mira turned, dark amber eyes serious. "It's a test. Every blessed one faces trials during those three moon cycles."
She moved to sit beside Faelyn on the sleeping platform, her small frame somehow commanding despite her size.
"What kind of trials?"
"Different for everyone." Mira's fingers traced her white streak absently. "I had mine five hundred years ago when the gods first blessed me with this. Lost half my tribe to a plague that season. Had to choose between using my healing magic to save my mate or to save the children."
Her voice was distant, remembering losses that still hurt after centuries.
