Iktome Plains Inop tuKua tikillugu

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Determined to live, he held fast to the older boy. His intention was not necessarily to cause harm, but to perhaps try and scare the shadow away—yeah, as if that would ever happen. He should have tried to distance himself, should have released and ran, but he hadn’t. Instead, the fallen prince chose to remain, thereby sealing his fate. This he came to realize as teeth found their way around the nape of his neck, encouraging him to let go and loose a high-pitched cry of protest. Thrashing around only made him grow tired, and so the boy fell limp. The sensation of teeth gripping the back of his neck made his body curl, and this he did not—could not—fight.

Bramble’s fate was determined right then and there, the lights of the fairies slowly flickering out with each defeated breath he took.

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