Being separated from Tavish, no matter the short distance between them, sent unease churning through her. She crossed to the center pole, hung her hat on a hook then shrugged off her riding jacket and strung it over the top. “’Tis no’ easy being separated.” “Give yourself a few minutes to get used to it. You’ve just completed the bond too which will make any separation particularly difficult.” Cherub wandered toward the corner pile of brown fur pelts, tossed her feathered bonnet onto a wooden crate holding a clay lamp next to it then plopped down on the furs. “Reach out to him along your link as you need to. I can assure you that he too shall be feeling the loss as you are.” “I miss you,” she whispered to the man who she couldn’t imagine living without. “I miss you, too. Kirk’s counseling me on the intensity of the bond, on how best to deal with the new and strengthened emotions rolling through me.”
