Wapun Meadow don't you bleed out an apology, you'll always be a liar to me

as the clouds gathered around them, their faces ominous, caiaphas felt a strange sense of desperation grow. kierkegaard would find ephraim, caiaphas could see no other outcome -- yet this certainty in her mate's abilities did not assay the doubt that wormed sickly and heavily in her stomach.

as she reached down for svalinn, he flopped obstinately in the mud -- in any other situation, it might have endeared her to witness his willfulness. not today, and not now -- she hunkered down next to him and fixed him a pointed stare, her lips pulled back and a growl rumbling darkly in her throat. there was no option, she seemed to say -- and without much care for the pain she might exact extricating him from the ground, caiaphas plucked at whatever was in reach -- be it limb, tail, or stomach.

later, she might feel sorry her irritability had possibly hurt svalinn, but for now she was too consumed in her own annoyance and worry to do much more than teach him, rather coldly too, that when she wanted something, she got it.