Wapun Meadow amappo

oh.
he'd hurt a lady. athalia feels her skin prickle with something dusky and heavy, the age-old call for teeth to latch onto flesh. she wonders what could have come of that lady. what the smell of decay might be like emanating from her putrid bones.
she leans down to taste the broken earth with the tip of her tongue. girl, she answers quietly. two. a pair of them, if she had to guess; like ancelin and ameline.