Barrow Fields and though half-blind with ravening

it was good to have a shared kinship between them - the mutual disdain of men (and In caiaphas’ case, individuals in general) caused a ripple of something akin to approval in the coywolf. there was little she liked; even less in men — and long ago they had proved to her they were of little use to her, save for the bit that hung between their legs. 

that thought made her think of Kierkegaard, and a pained expression stole across her narrow muzzle. he had been more— and he too was gone. 

quickly the siren chased away the ghost of thoughts that threatened to upend her composure, smiling an indulgent smile at the mention of illidan. of course as his mother she believed him flawless - the same went for svalinn and Raleska - but to hear another utter the words was validating. her little chest puffed, for she had always been susceptible to flattery. he will be something. she concurred, rising from the dirt with a rough shake. if men want to piss and stamp their feet, let’s give them something to holler about. 

already the waif was off towards ankyra, making for the edge of the cliff where she had detected a most unsavory scent earlier.