Ankyra Sound the song is not the same when we're all played out

In his thick accent he painted a world unknown to her - Russia she did not know -- nor did she know the endless and interminable grey sea he must have traversed to stand so proudly before her. But she knew cold -- she knew the cold that slipped through veins and turned blood thick and frothy; she knew cold that nipped the toes and cold that turned ears black with ice-plague. She knew the cold that set on sleeping bodies and crept through their lungs and froze every ventricle and capillary until their soul relinquished from their bodies.

She smiled. The agouti continued to speak.

"You may." She observed his stout physique and wondered if the sisters would approve of him -- and a faint chortle issued from her muzzle as she mentally pitted him against Atlas -- a wolf even he dwarfed with his stature and masculinity. "The Sisters are a large group of females with appointed male consorts." The large part was a lie. She was sure the numbers now were below four. Stinging truth - unfortunate as it was.

"They have set claim to the coast behind me. They worship the ocean - the mother of the earth." Past that, she really didn't know what the freaks did. "Interested?"