Larksong Grotto cranberry

Wolf clattered naked teeth in a bare jawbone.

those boys. born in blood. boys in blood.

i don't know what you mean.

no boy born with his mother's blood in his mouth avoids power.

wolf dreamer stopped abruptly in his tracks through the grotto, wincing as behind the black and staring eyes there came the replaying of images; wilwarin's horrible shining anguish, the death she had experienced over and over before her sons breathed.

he held it inside himself, a tall and slender figure standing on a small natural cliff within the recesses of that cavern, surrounded by winging larks as he stared at absolutely nothing.