Boartusk Heights aquí estoy, tierra de muerte

disgusted little yaps, sent from the tip of a bloodless tongue, out of a maggot-white face, the wormhead woman descending on dainty paws in the eyes of the madwoman more sickly and diseased than her own marred flesh - marked with a white as pure as the liquidy shit of a bird taking flight, the waste left after all of use was taken and kept.

( did that skull even house a brain? )

with a short, pitched cackle, the svart leapt back, pausing to roll her orbs between the two, ears cocking asymmetrically to listen to their garbled words.

she glinted, pitched her tail in a defiant gesture - last trace of her season for the sentinel male - and was quick to begin her descent down the rocks, else risk teeth and the continued presence of the wormheaded female.

stiffing a giggle all the while.