Kintla Flatlands dies irae, dies illa

pale, as a ghost. she approached. haruspex watched her with solid gold eyes, waiting for her to get close enough—

she spoke before expected. a hunter. their kind was. born to be. but she didn't understand. haruspex chuckled, and then straightened at the unfamiliar word. akashingo? they voiced, and their tone was cold and hard as january wind.

she was beautiful, and a sentry for something much harder. haruspex stiffened, fearing, and then leaned hard upon their left side and rolled upon the entrails.

corpus mecum, corpus mecum.

hot and tangy, the blood rose above them. she sucked in deep, fast breaths, fearing—