Stone Circle vittorio

laurel, despite all her posturing and ragged throat-swears, bent swiftly for merrick. his jaws engulfed her nape, and her scream pierced him, strident. bones rattled with the howl of it, and then the boy began to chuckle deep in his throat.
who gave a single fuck that he was here upon the edge of easthollow? the scent of her blood burned him. the goatish reek of her fear flared in the air like colorless particles of misery, and merrick glut himself upon them with a savage hiss.
he began to writhe, seeking to tear fur from skin and skin from fat and fat from muscle and muscle from
bone
her shriek echoed and echoed behind his eyes.