Ouroboros Spine feel good hit of the summer

she frowned. last meerkat had spoken of them, she had been crushed beneath stones of grief.

she examined the fine lines of the girl, looking for injury or aggravation, something to explain the sudden burst of harshly lit joy. tail swayed uncertainly behind her.

how many can a tupilak curse, if she comes to a village?

blood turning to the sluggish icechoke of winter. "meerkat, listen. look to my face, look." she tried to catch the younger's eye, stepping closer. "before you came here to moonglow this day, did you have the sight of a girl who was only red?"