Wapun Meadow i'll never forget that you showed me to make art

divinity, a hiss, breath in his face; the scents of blood and rot. the voidsent hovered, then turned away in a flurry of tattered black fur.

what to do. what to do...

do you want to live? her question was frank. she did not turn back to him. instead she stared out over the meadow at dying snows and contemplated what she might do with some foolish yearling boy.

irrelevant, if he did not possess the spine to withstand her volatile ways.