Felltree Marsh lives of the witching circle

Shocking as it might seem, Swordfish might have preferred the grief-ridden and sorrowful version of Lestan. At least he had been easier to herd toward a goal. To bounce from one madness to the next…

When Lestan answered, his voice was calm. Swordfish’s ear swiveled. The dark of the other man’s gaze was unnerving. Beneath the serene tone of his response was a hungry and bleak beast of wrath. It unleashed its power when Lestan would growl his curses and claw at the earth.

What uh- What are ya gonna do to ‘em? What if they got friends?