The Sunspire The sound of their tongues being bitten is all I hear.

The blow surprised Sivugat as much as it appeared to for the man. Often enough in his training with Nyra or the others of the Saints, for that short time among them, the boy had been well beaten. His training had gone nowhere, or so it felt.

He could not be quick or secret in his movements. He was too big. The clip of his teeth against the man's face - so near the throat - gave rise to that bloodthrill he had scented on the wind; this time it thrummed throughout his body.

Lunging again, greedily, and aiming in a haphazard manner for the man's chest, or neck, or even belly, Sivugat was eager to bowl him over and prove his superiority, even for only a moment.