Tormented Tarns little monsters

he was a wildcat's cub, spitting and twisting her jaws painfully to one side. muskrat near lost her hold, teeth tightening on what of him she seized, claws raking furrows of dirt which leaked down the stone ledge.

his last movement wrenched her shoulder painfully; she let him go, let him perhaps tumble, pursuing until the moment of proper stun when she might capture the boy with more success.

shadowland would hold another soul tonight.