Wapun Meadow the lambs were screaming

"No!" he hissed suddenly, then caught himself. "No," Lecter repeated, shutting his eyes for a long moment at the shifting of her own clear gaze. "I could not." He had lost Shearwater, Koios, Nanuq, Valkari. He had lost Starling. He had even lost his God, and his faith had been in danger of waning before he had discovered the three lost souls besides himself who had straggled here. Damned he would be if he lost Clarice, also.

But his body, perhaps it would go on swelling his lungs with air, forcing him to eat, to slumber, even to breed. "I do not wish to live without you, Clarice," he muttered, quite put off by his own rusted and incomprehensible emotions. I love you, his icewater gaze whispered momentarily, but he did not speak in such concrete terms to his little one because she did not understand them. The world was evershifting, and Freyja Clarice had melded herself to its movements; she was as fluid as the Loa, and he marvelled that she had held so long to reality.

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