Emberflame Ridge Whatever you wish for, you keep

a dire ululation sprang from the eerie throat of the yellow-eyed warrior; her keening a backdrop for the flying droplets of blood pierced from that night hide by the lynx girl herself.

sacsayhuamán surely flanked, teeth flashing; muskrat kept her gait equal as long as she was able, adjusting for each ridge that rose sharp, each hillock and spread of deceptive grass; down, charging down, claws sharp and tail revolving to keep her balance.

the keening; the swamp panther's song, broken only by her snap here and there.