The Heartwood and i pray to god you dont come back here anymore

the ragged hound skulked close. until that moment caiaphas had simply regarded his presence as an unwanted inconvenience — and now, his barbed words earned her unbridled contempt.

and caiaphas’ contempt was a terrible thing to earn.

her gums curled back at the name of her children. so he knew them — so what. if he had paid any attention to the state the wilds, he would have known returning to rusalka was not as simple as trotting down the old deer path.. not when that deer path was under sixty tonnes of mountain rubble.

merrick was not forgotten, but caiaphas’ focus was now on vengeance nearly entirely. if she was going to have to kill him, so be it. he’d just be another dead body and unmarked grave behind her. you must think yourself clever. caiaphas returned, a smoothness to her tone and gaze that did not bode well for the man. almost all men thought themselves clever — and very few measured up to their high opinion of themselves in caiaphas’ experience. or very silly. did you not notice the landslide to the north of us? she could humor him a bit longer, she decided — it was not as if this wasn’t the third or fourth time in a month someone had tried to kill her. caiaphas was starting to become desensitized to the whole thing, frankly. apparently, just another day at the office. the way to rusalka is shut. since you know their names, and neither would be friendly with an outsider, i assume for a time you were their friend. and here you are, smelling nothing of them and terribly far from home.. who is to say, you did not abandon them too? hard to keep tabs when you’re in the middle of west-fuck-land with collapsed mountains on all side. if you asked me my assumption, i’m going to wager you did the same to them our buddy in the water did.  what is to stop me now from putting you to the dirt just like vercingetorix?

caiaphas did not need to step closer to make her intent clear — it simmered viciously in her hawkbit eyes.