Bearclaw Valley raspberry cigars

ash was a spitting cobra with a tongue of flame; a tripwire for an unwitting wrist. merrick watched with naked interest as her emotions clawed around them, the burnt flickering of amethyst lighting his own golden torch-eye. 
no, merrick
her parchment tongue curling around the sound of his own name. he did not move but seemed to scintillate suddenly all the same.
"i'm as good as a bastard," he told her, tone revealing nothing. stillness. silence. and then tonguetip to the side of his mouth in a sly swiftness suggestion that all was well. "and i found the one."
pain suddenly flooding like dark floodwaters across the edges of his mouth, engulfing the scarred face until the cyclops'-stare singed and shattered with gilded anguish.
"you will also, ash. it is determination. obsession."
merrick was retreating into himself, flesh remaining as he was while mind lifted through the great slash in the earth and sought the raven.