Wapun Meadow the lambs were screaming

He had wanted too long for his God to feel the lash of his anger; Jinx was correct. Lecter had been the most devoted of his kith to the causes of Sos. And yet, as he bathed the wound in his shoulder, and spat crushed comfrey into it, he understood that he could no longer be angry with the Dark One for His decisions. It was not for the madman to know, the inner workings of Sos, and Lecter swallowed this knowledge, though a bitter cup it was.

He picked his way effortlessly through the sea of wildflowers, lifting a scornful lip at the clinging desperate beauty of the last spring blossoms. The night prior, he had stalked and killed a hare, dropped from an impossible height by a bantling hawk; Lecter had been surprised the small beast was still alive, let alone uninjured enough to attempt an escape from the snap of his jaws.

His eyes swam with sudden confusion; he drew himself up, halting in his steps. She was here, and shock mingled with awe and an icy sort of joyous relief in his heart. But he was silent; the girl, like her mother, was unmoved by the physicality. Lecter moved to her side, limp lessened by time and by his delight at seeing his daughter once more, and kept pace with her in quietude as the dying sounds of the summerkissed lands danced around them.

<style type="text/css">.lectree {width:380px; background-image:url('http://www.ghostecho.net/stu/lectree.png'); background-position:bottom center; background-color:#050505; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000; padding:30px 30px 210px 30px; font-family:georgia; font-size:12px; color:#565656; line-height:1.5em; text-align:justify; margin:0px auto; -moz-box-shadow: 10px 10px 5px #3F3F3F; -webkit-box-shadow: 10px 10px 5px #3F3F3F; box-shadow: 10px 10px 5px #3F3F3F; }.lectree b {color:#8F3E3E; }.lectree p {text-indent:50px; margin:0px;}</style>