Ocean's Breath Plateau My hair is the color of cheetos right now, and I will take no questions.

his once-over seemed pleasing, but then the young man sagged and sank to his belly, and aditya looked upon him with weary concern.

what's wrong, bachcha? he asked, mouth quirking in a frown. 

it seemed so many of the moontide wolves felt the same these days—powerless against the winds of fate, and of whatever was stealing their youngsters from them. 

i'm all ears, aditya reminded the other, though he stifled a yawn in the process. it was tough being the voice of reason when said voice was hoarse, and the accompanying ears were bordering on deaf.