Grouse Thicket An Irishman walks out of the bar

the well-furred matron gave caiaphas a quirky response: it was enough for her to chew over for a while, wondering where the crone had gotten such a poor opinion of the deads' collective temperaments. as far as caiaphas was concerned, the dead were dead -- unless the she-wolf was hinting of the phantasmal, which caiaphas put very little stock in.

her ruse was transparent as the first rime of ice to gild a lake - it appeared apple had seen right through it, for she had suddenly shifted the topic to what caiaphas' own concealed motives were -- of course, with a vaguely satirical twist. the siren smiled ruefully to herself, but answered truthfully enough: "a meal would be nice."