The Heartwood Fear's got a hold on me

A crooked smile began to snake up her disfigured maw when Tuwawi recognized the ugly change in the wretch's tone. Every sputter and shriek empowered the ember twofold, knowing the familiar agony her words provoked. Yet, the ghoul's retort was surprisingly weak. Why? Tuwawi became confused. Slowly, it dawned on her. Larus had twice died in his mother's heart. Though there had been some small sliver of hope that her child survived, the ember had faced the reality that her son had left this land, and probably this earth, some time ago. At least he was no longer hostage of the Sound. Any death was better. 

The sudden feeling of autonomy made her giggle, which quickly snowballed into raucous laughter. Tuwawi smacked the ground with a slim paw, feeling her sides begin to split. The siren had no ammunition by which to hurt her. "You have nothing!" she roared, the phrase's double entendre reeling her into a new wave of fits.