Duck Lake dorn zunge

Sarah was a tad bit disappointed, because not only Mahler accepted her answer readily, he also did not have to look far for a suitable answer. She had met a man of intelligence and resources and the only thing to decide was, whether she should loathe him or envy him for that. 

The she-wolf stared thoughtfully at the freshly dug grave - a single impulse of creativity had found it's way in her rational and calculating brain. A tree or a bee, which one would the corpse become, unless some scavenger desecrated the grave and the body would become dinner, lunch, breakfast and snacks for tea. 

"Rest in peace and become, whatever you wanted to be," she told the mound and for a minute this did not feel stupid at all. But then her mathematical brain cells decided that enough was enough, picked the broom and squashed that spider of imagination. "Is that it?" she looked over at Mahler with the same sullen look of earlier. 

If he suggested some dancing and chanting or other foolishness that people might engage with corpses, he could do it all well on his own. Sarah thought that she had engaged in enough foolishness for one day.