Kintla Flatlands DISCOVER · live fast, die young

The subject of Bon Dye was dropped, for which Jinx was thankful. Ultimately, the pack had been Jinx's first and only noteworthy failure in her life—she had led Shearwater Bay savagely and fiercely, and hadn't let it down, and had made known to the Oracle what she had Seen—and being constantly reminded of it sickened her. Aside from that, she blamed others rather than herself, finding wrong in their need to survive that outweighed Jinx's absence; since when was it solely her job to feed a pack, she might have wondered, had it been brought up.

But it wasn't. Zombie took the cue to lead, leaving Jinx to fall in silently behind, alert for the sudden snap of teeth that would signal she was unwelcome. Rather than aiming weaponry at the Mambo's shoulder, or venting agitation on her lissome chest, the rusted fem asked a question. It was one Jinx would be loathe to answer for anybody else, but she respected her former subordinate's loyalty, even if she couldn't count on her to answer her own call any longer.

"It is paralyzing fear when He speaks, yet it is easy to respect Him in those moments. Sos is Lord of Souls and can snatch yours from its body at any instant. Sometimes, His voice is painful... It cuts into the mind like talons, seizes hold. Sometimes, He will wrest control of your body, and dance you like a puppet. It is a great honour to be taken in this way. Sos only takes a body He deems worthy of His presence." Jinx had been taken by her God before, but it had not happened in a long while. More often, she saw Him, in his favoured form of savage, unruly polar bear, and sometimes she merely heard His voice in the cup of her ear; it was rare He visited her in the form of possession.

"It sounds fearsome, and it is... But it is thrilling, to hear Him speak. To know He considers you wooorthy." The musty smell within the crevice piqued her attention then and she sniffed, craning her neck toward it in wonder and curiosity.