Rosemary wrapped her fingers around Sissix’s scaled palm as best she could. Their hands did not fit well together, but they made the best of it. Sissix was too alien for Rosemary to label her as beautiful, but . . . striking. Yes, that was a better word. She stood a head taller than Rosemary, and her body was lithe and lean. Moss green scales sheathed her body from the top of her head to the tip of her tail, fading into a paler shade over her belly. She had a smooth face, no nose or lips or ears to speak of, just holes for breathing and holes for hearing and a small slit of a mouth. A
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