Blackfeather Woods why you get loose, get loose, get low, get low

sobeille also longed to know the world intimately; to learn from all religions, to strip back the flesh from all traditions -- to take and macerate old-world customs and bend them to her own design.

as she hunkered down to collect the bone a pair of eyes stared back at her from the dark. her hackles bladed instantly, but as a figure broke from the denmouth, sobeille realized she was staring at the countenance of another wolf.

this one was decidedly pretty; an otherworldly marking wrapped around her face like a shawl. she looked confused -- sobeille put the last of the bones into her peltskin. sobeille. who be you?