Greatwater Lake with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground

You get my 800th post!

And not even the vaguest of memories of her can be retrieved from memory. Back then Damien was but a vessel for madness, fueled by fear and guilt and shame, so he wouldn't have been able to acknowledge her presence in the caverns that night if he tried. At that point the night-kissed girl had the advantage of knowing intimate things about him, and Damien was oblivious. All he knew was that the smell of her blood was dangerously sweet.

Her ankle raises to reveal a gash on her pawpad, and the dark prince licks his lips as an instinctive reflex to inhibit uncalculated actions. I'm sorry but we don't have the means to help you, he says, a polite way to say "please leave". Or maybe a civilized way to say "leave before I finish the job". Now he was being merciful.