and none will shed a tear for the love no longer here

The shudders that seized his body were not unlike Cthulhu's, who Caiaphas assumed had succumbed to the fierce will of the wild. As he staggered forwards the thickness of her winter coat doubled, hackles stiff and raised as she watched him with suspicion in her hawk-yellow eyes.

He smelled strange, but not sick -- Caiaphas had all assortment of inquiries to press unto him, none of which found assignment on her slack tongue. She arched her back, her tail raised -- for a moment, the wretch looked like a phantom cat skeletal and sleek with menace. "Dog?" She hissed, the diction strange on her tongue -- "You're a funny looking wolf."