Sequoia Coast and between offering and banquet, we devoured the gods

Something in her tone brought the wind to bite at his flesh. The ghost watched her with a calculating stare, knowing that she was speaking of Caiaphas, but refusing to say it out loud. His gaze latched to her features, and then her warning, and he felt a fire light in his chest. Kierkegaard had witnessed her fight, and the shrewd tactics that she used to rule with. He had known her for long enough to know of her pride – the beliefs that she fought so wildly to uphold. He had never had such a belief system; he did not know the passion that burned within her. It would fall to him, perhaps, too soon for the old mercenary to realize. His pups would truly be his dying legacy, and he would find himself spurred by his passion for them. As he stood and watched the dark Heda leave, he did not feel it. Even after catching a hare and returning to his home, he did not feel it. It would take time, but his protectiveness for his new family was something that would burn him alive, or everything around him.