Larksong Grotto nigredo

the discomfort of the little shadow was almost-touchable, thick. seasoned with fear? the mastiff found satisfaction in having invoked it.

when expected to speak, diesel let a pause stretch as she tried to decide on what would be the most entertaining way to deal with this rust-eared runt.

she tossed the fox at the girl, aiming for her body.

"-hternoon." the mastiff spoke trough mangled face. "hat do 'ee 'ave 'eeeere?" she dropped into a mocking play bow, tail like the swinging bit of an old clock.