Ankyra Sound make a den, build a fire; later, the smoke will taste like plums

he seemed almost snakelike as she came across him; cream and pale and forked of tongue. he was subservient, but she did not trust him. her gaze narrowed and to test her limits, she stepped forward authoritatively -- her tail hooked over her thin, motherborne haunches and her ears erect. so he wanted her. get in line, she thought with a scoff.

only, the strangeness of his bald answer caused a shift in her. she studied his face openly for any deceit or guile. surely, there was something else. whatever she wanted was a terrible thing -- would he truly be able to excise such commands? "did i leave that much of an impression?" she asked almost coyly -- except for the fact she was too harrow-faced and wizened to be coquettish.