Wapun Meadow boorish

"they could never hope to come close," merrick purled back in response. laughter billowing in his throat as he breathed in the bloodsport air of fields' breath. let me help you! but he would be the blessed one in the end, the machination of the bear itself, engineering the termination of this world for the next. the haunted constriction of black dots in the center of fields' eyes haunted the boy into a gleeful snicker, hiding the wry twist of a mouth that hungered for the touch of red-splashed lips.
they would make a ceremony of it, he and his new companion, he and the chunnering voice of ursus suddenly come forward to say yes! yes! this is the one. a messiah who would not cast away the darkness, but embrace it, draw it into bone and marrow and artery and throat. "have you eaten, fields?" merrick whispered, the picture of a young leader asking after a newcomer, though his tones begged to be taken for the syllables of smoke and suggestion he could not help.