Foggy Bottom Way [m] el mar

The black smoke of the witch curdled between his teeth, the rotten tang of her blood on his tongue. He sipped from her iron fountain, staining his teeth, his muzzle. He thought if he were to rip into his own leg, his bones would stain black. But the witch was going to die.

Soon. Soon it would be over.

Then, a betrayal.

Aquillius Redsand’s single pupil narrowed into a dot at the swing of his father’s teeth, confusion on his face as his mind rapidly tried to connect between “father” and “threat”. His jaw slacked, his ears went back, and the witch slipped from between his teeth.

Cornelius prowled like the coward he was just past their father, willing to listen to lies, unwilling to help. The witch bucked and twisted against Valiria’s hold. Blood bubbled in his nostrils as he stared at the punctures his teeth had left. Momentarily, the fog lifted.

…am I a bad person?

Then, the fog came back down, thicker this time, slamming over him like smog.

Of course not.

He slammed his weight against the back end of the witch, feeling her static invading his fur in sharp prickles. Needles to his skin, each one ignored.

Valiria screamed at Germanicus. Aquillius, bitter black-blood hatred in his eyes for the witch, just stared, not all there.