Bearclaw Valley her perfume crucified me with memories

stigmata. mommy. friend. lunch. three of four words made sense, provoking a little swaying around merrick's hips, but he peered toward the man he was to thank with a child's perturbation. vaguely in the recesses of his rapidly growing brain, the boy understood this was a natural interaction of their kind. however, it vied with the child's more intense desire to do as he pleased.
shaking himself free of indra's embrace, as if his mother had been the one to draw him into it, merrick inched glibly toward the limp thing upon the earth. small hackles stiffened; kittenlike he placed one large paw over the carcass and sniffed the air slowly in stigmata's direction. "MINE."
it was a statement of intent toward the pair of adults; merrick hefted the body and let it fall to earth, looking to indra for approval and validation of his claim upon someone else's offering.