Blackwater Islands devourer

a soft sort of hunger grips them; a want for companionship they are void of with their wandering nightwife. though it is never lonely in their voiddreams and when they walk, awake thru the spirit realm ...it strikes true in the here and now.

it startles them; though their seaglass gaze does not avert from her.

sacrarium, the name of the pack the woman named ash paw dwells within comes to their tongue, taking form and mooring in their harbor of truth.

a pause; a consideration. a strong chance that the wolves of that pack might not accept them. they were borne to rule and that might ultimately get in their way.

maybe. if they'll take me. they add in the next breath. or perhaps i will build something of my own. the threads of which would become hauntingly apparent in the weeks to come but remained yet unknown to them.

another pause is given. your debt is paid and i should take my leave. with this, they depart ...wondering if they will see her again.