Sequoia Coast cheerio

Kovacs heard the winged pest swoop and braced himself for attack, but Bartok chose to fight with his wits. Smart. The price of failure would be high should he allow himself to be plucked from his element.

"Everrrrr tire of leading meaningless existence?" it cawed, easily matching the wolf's pace. Kovacs stopped and twisted his neck to look up at the beady-eyed demon, wondering what he had done to deserve such terrible and persistent company. "Yes. All the time," the wolf responded gruffly, denying Bartok the rise he no doubt sought. "Any ideas?"