Kalinda slipped her slim body between Talia and her slave, sheathes digging into the backs of both, and wraped an arm around the Cynis girl's waist.  Turning to cup the girls cheek, she turned the wood aspect to face her and lifted her chin.  Gold flecked amythests stared deep into her soul.  "Listen to me, Talia," she spoke with fierce sincerity.  "You are not going to die."  She leaned forewards so that pale pink lips with hints of lavender could kiss the tears from below each eye.  "Stick with me and you'll be just fine, Talia."  She emphesised the words with a long, slow, but wholy comforting kiss.  not to say that girls who didn't go through their teenage years in the matriarchies of the river country would take it that way.  Everyone had their own culture.  Everyone.