Felltree Marsh A coat of red

the killer had a point. sobeille's jaw hung open and she briefly interjected: 'e was twice my size an' i was outnumbere-- but she fell short, huffing.

sivaak slowed just enough that the pace could almost be called comfortable. sobeille drew alongside the rippling shoulders of the huntress, listening with one ear turned.

no sound, all shadows -- women herded to the black sea and fed to a god hungrier than any wolf's greed. sobeille found a strange pleasure in this, for she knew it to be just offering tithes to the seawater.

and de men? sobeille asked, eye trained resolutely ahead.