Sleepy Fox Hollow we are just happy to serve you

She felt nearly immediate affront upon hearing the question, taking it to be a rude condemnation of her faith rather than an innocent query. Still, she bit back a retort (my, my, Maegi was growing up) and turned her eyes to Wylla, unable to watch the woman dispatch the hawk. At least it had gone quickly, and would serve a purpose. . .even if that purpose was keeping a colossal bitch in good flesh.

I don't really know, Maegi responded, shrugging. It's always been this way—what my god has asked of me. Honor the dead, the dying, the defenseless and the damned. They need someone to speak for them. She didn't know whether she felt proud or foolish, speaking this to someone who would likely scoff at it.

She shook her head at Wylla's question, in juxtaposition to the way her stomach felt, empty and aching. I'm fine, she murmured, nostrils flaring at the oh-so-close smell of blood. Perhaps Jaes would smile upon her later and bring her upon a fresh kill. One that wasn't so similar to her own sorry, crippled form.