Sheepeater Cliff it's the end/friend of mine

Here she is a connoisseur of silences. She could arrange all the types of silences into their own periodic table. This one was -- broken silence. 

Who was that?

There's an intense flurry of movement, snapshot panic. Bones clutter -- there goes a rib, is that a wishbone already split in half? the skull falling end over polyhedral end -- the salty petrol-like smell of fear wafting from her quickly hardening into aggression. 

What dyou want? The dark boy is around the same age as her but bigger and her question is serrated all the same. Better tell me, or, or get the hell away.

Her breaths come heavy through gritted teeth.