Blackfeather Woods the dj was the last to leave, she had well conditioned hair

she had come from one of the terrible grippings, the thrashing that left her drained of strength and lips flecked in bitter foam. and it seemed on this particular day, relmyna had bitten the inside of her jaw. plaintively she spat the blood onto the snow outside her den, where she had fallen, and climbed to unsteady legs.
the oily song of the reaper flowed o'ertop the jagged trees; she narrowed her eyes in consternation but drew herself toward him all the same, unbalanced by the weight of her gravid body and thrumming with a shameful hunger.