Larksong Grotto wicked beasts and idle bellies

she loosed a low snarl when she heard his voice again, countering her, refusing her will -- the will of Raas. she spoke and it was His will. she had to remind herself of this, for sometimes it felt as if they were one and the same.

what you feel is not love. you covet her flesh. certain now that her venture south had been wrong, hosannah had convinced herself with this conversation alone that she would never leave again. she would correct this. they would see the light - reek would see his error and be corrected. you do not know His will, for He does not see fit to speak with you.

behind her the nub of her tail lashed; if she had something of more substance, it would be a whip and he would be feeling the lashings of it as she stepped beyond him. you master these wolves, and i communicate His will to all of you. how foolish i am — thinking that you were his chosen. have i been led astray? are you truly one of the heartless, set before me to test my will? she shook her head and continued her long strides away from him. if he kept up they would continue this conversation, but it is clear by the irritation exuded by the seer that reek has erred in a great manner.

this would be fixed. she would cleanse this from him, from the land, from all — and Raas would see her devotion. perhaps then things would become clearer.