Phantom Hollow You can't just snap your fingers and expect me to be there.

Fade here?

Fang? Was that who he was supposed to be now?

It lacked the finesse of the moonwoman's language, lacking the resonance. It didn't matter either way what he was called — it wouldn't change the fact that he was less than dirt, something to be pitied, and certainly it was the pity shared by Nyra that ensured his survival now.

Fang. He tested it upon his tongue possessively, and as he stood up intent to follow Nyra wherever her claim was, it appeared as though the boy had made up his mind, and looked carefully, shrewdly, upon Nyra in anticipation - it was time to go home.