Stone Circle every little lie in this world comes from dividing

blood on the wind.

the girl’s eyes clear of their fugue, a hungering knot unraveling in her stomach.

the black doe dematerialized, replaced by the rangy form of a dark wolf.

she sat upright, a voice snarling in her ear:

he does not belong here

but at his feet was a warm body.

the girl’s gaze measured the kindness in his eyes. his physique.

and then she lunged for the fox.