Grouse Thicket An Irishman walks out of the bar

apple's brand of humor, refreshing as it was for caiaphas' author, elicited only a cold stare from caiaphas: she could play along, if she wanted to -- but she was hangry, and hangry wolves made for poor dinner company most of the time.

she was not going to grovel; it was well below her station, in her eyes -- and besides, as wounded and ugly as her cuts were, she could probably still hunt small game.. if she didn't kill them with her teeth, perhaps terrifying them to death with her grotesquely mangled face might do.

"is my company not rewarding enough?" caiaphas flicked a blood-crusted ear, thumbing her split lip with a pink tongue.