Redtail Rise tommy gun

she calls to him from afar and he slows until she is at his side. hail, he greets her.

she speaks to him of things he does not know.  he feels resistance pull at his already frayed edges.  he chooses not to acknowledge it.  he is fresh blood, he expects to be beneath her.

typhon, he says, your blod.  he stopped to rub himself along the rough bark of a tree and allowed a sigh as it pulled out a tuft of undercoat that was ready to be shed.