Blackfeather Woods the radio station disappears, music turned into thin air

as soon as he descended, and turned his eyes upon her, relmyna too looked toward the tyro, seeking the hue of his gaze with her own. from her body he had taken what dictated the darkened hungers of his own, but not once had the patchwork woman ever held this against him. the gift that lay in grisly repose above she would soon gather to her bosom, but there was another she wanted from the slinking thing that regarded her with a wondering sort of apprehension.
and so relmyna locked her eyes upon his own, and softened her pose. words she had not, but words were often unnecessary.