Mudminnow River little drummer boy

It was morning, and she could not feel.

The writhing catfish held between her teeth slowly suffocated as dawn splintered across Lucretia’s face and body, broken up by the reeds of the riverbank.

She did not bite down on the fish. She hadn’t wanted it to begin with, catfish were too bony for her to enjoy eating very much, but it’s what she caught.

I should eat it.

She did not. Lucretia just sat there, as if struck dumb by the heavens, the catfish’s struggling ceasing, though it would continue to gasp for air for several minutes more.

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ooh, big bitch.

diesel admired the wolf - she-wolf the wind told her - from afar. what a sight. diesel played a fun game of mental tug-o-war deciding whether she was intimidated or aroused by the giant.

either way, she was hungry

she mimed a wolf's chuff as she came through the summer grasses. big girl seemed out of it - retarded, maybe? - and the mastiff gestured with her chin at what was between the other's teeth.

"you gonna hinish that?" the flew that wasn't ruined was tugged in a smile.