Lost Creek Hollow There's delays on the planes out of Eastern Montana

silent orders do not come, so the siren prince hangs back for her kill is quick, clean — an opportunity afforded by the stumble of the calf, clumsy and uncoordinated. for a small moment, dracarys envies her the ease of this kill; there and gone before he can acknowledge it truly at all.

aderī asēnagon, offers the siren prince in a compliment when she looks to face him, deferring to his native tongue ... always eager to test if it was understood by the wolves here. his gaze rakes her in, her blood specked pale throat where it lingers.