Duck Lake You realize that tinned food is just for crackheads and wars?

onward went the burning form of once-caiaphas, now more scucca than flesh. it -- caiaphas -- had a vision unaltered since she had first left bearclaw. the ghostly form of kevlyn continued ahead, pursued doggedly by the ransacked siren.

she staggered at the foot of the lake, having neither the perception nor the wherewithal to avoid it or the wolf that lingered nearby. she did not see pygmalion, so consumed was her burning hallucinations. her jaws were slack as she passed within several hundred feet of the paused male, goblets of drool streaming behind her.

kevlyn. she could remember little, but something persistent stuck to her mind: she must follow him.

no matter the cost.