Shadow Mountain zoka

There it was -- a glint of something knife-like under the careful guise of sadness. Anselm set back on his heels, marveling how an antagonistic barb could reveal so much so quickly. Maybe all people were layered, and each barb pulled back defensive covering after covering, until nothing was left but a bitter and thorny pit. 

How close was Anselm to the pit?

He glanced from the woman to his feet, then all around him -- as if measuring his husband potential. Who was she to say he'd never been married? What clued her off?  And what was all the talk about god? Did she truly believe such a being existed? If so, no wonder she looked so incredibly sad.

I do not need to be married to know it is pointless. He gave a rough roll of his shoulders, gaze pinned on the woman as she backed up. He was not so sadistic to step forward and close the gap -- truthfully, it didn't make him feel good when he scared other wolves. Seeing his hostility reflected back in their wide-eyed gaze often only made him feel small. God makes nothing. There is no god. Vhy vould you vaste your energy believing such a thing? It is almost as pointless as marriage. Trot back to your husband and leave my elk alone.