“Heat in Embrace wraps close to the skin – saturating, condensation mingling with sweat. There’s a texture to it that I’ve not felt anywhere else. When the sun breaks, it doesn’t tip-toe through dawn. It’s there in its full fury, from moment of first light til its dusk retreat.
That summer the city blistered. The scrimshawers were kept busy repairing cracks in bone; the Trill’s moisture was the only thing that stopped the fleshwood from igniting. Our tempers though were frayed to wicks, ready to catch. Hulling day would be the spark.”