is Ela

line, the women wh

ed to our blood, tied t

always cold ag

s our family, but i

etrayed our ancestors

in my grandmother'

e old ways, the folklore

ge the locket, how to soo

ause of this b

art of me, a sh

ama Willow and I,

rning the whispers of the spi

ife, a quiet one

illow said, to calmin

l, a binding

hit, a wild V

e crashed his ca

he old oak, throw

rom the crash, but

and strange, was

cold, his b

oked at me, he

n draw out the sickness,

cost, my ow

him, the lock

er pulse

d it to

om me, into him,

neasy with this strang

his eyes flu

urned to

detests liar

him, make hi

was low,

aling bi

and desperate

I have given, a terrib

d his

ou ag

is voice a h

agree. A

and, his grip su

er settle

ct was

years