Barrow Fields she sells sea shells

while the wind proved fickle in its loyalty, it told caiaphas enough -- maegi carried no scent of the cliffside wolves. the siren's prickled hackles settled, and as she pulled closer she caught the disfigurement that hounded one side of the girl's would-be pretty features. a shame, given the dryaid's pale constitution -- but caiaphas was not one for sympathy.

she halted a polite distance away, canting her muzzle this way and that, suggesting she was hungrily examining the woman and taking her time doing so. once she had visually drawn all she could from maegi, she answered. "who are you?"