Barrow Fields i need not one thing more

for a moment caiaphas studied the way mona fretted her paw in the snow, sunken pawprints muddled with each passing imprint. caiaphas had not returned to donnelaith since news of lasher's demise, and had not known of the fire that sundered it. she hide her surprise well, electing then to scowl as she stared across the stony face of the sea.

"why is it your fault?" she asked ostensibly, curious in what world a whelp would be at fault for the absence of their father. "what would you like me to tell you? he visited my shore a few times - and i his -- nothing more." a vestigial twinge of sadness lingered in her tone, cut crisp as she thought of kierkegaard. perhaps a different life, things would have been different -- but that life was no longer, and she was still here.