Don’t worry, due’ane,” He murmured lowly....“Who’s Dewey Anne.” I asked him, voice gruff. He was so familiar, this Bracken, but so strange, naked next to me. I could touch him, I realized with wonder. I could run my hands from his flank to his shoulder, and he would welcome the touch because he was mine. You are.” He whispered, and I met his eyes. “It’s elfish, the feminine noun for ‘other equal half’. You are my other. My everything.” --Wounded (Bracken and Cory)