The earth clinging to the tips of her fingers was as dark as Daja's skin, but so much rougher when she clawed at it, sighs spilling out without her consent.
"You sound like you enjoyed that," Daja murmured, and Tris's breath hitched.
Beneath the palms of her hands, beneath her skin and hair, Tris felt the earth beginning to move; it creaked in protest. Diamond, dirt, the coal deep beneath...
"Wait," she muttered, fighting for control, to shut out Briar, who had to be searching for the source of his brand new kiwifruit vines' complaints. The edge of his thoughts brushed her mind - before Sandry's presence jerked him away. 'Thanks.'
Daja's chuckle did funny things to her stomach. "I do not think she was doing that for us."
Tris's pale hands touched Daja's brass-covered ones. "I don't think it matters."