Redsand Canyon And all I want is a little hope

well, at least he was learning. whether or not he held to that remained to be seen. the saints, so far, proved surprisingly eager to spell out every detail of their life stories for renard to pick over like the proverbial vulture – and they were glad to do it.

but at some point, someone had to learn a lesson. maybe this was derg’s.

maybe not.

derg hit the water with a heavy splash; renard was right behind, jaws coming down around his neck. they caught in the soft fur, around loose flesh, and they held him there – underwater, the roar of the waterfall echoing around them.

there was always something satisfying about holding life in their jaws like this. all they’d have to do was hold him – all they’d have to do was bite down – and that would be it. nothing left but dead meat. as always, part of them wanted to – but this was the overseer, and that wasn’t their job.

their jaws loosened, prepared to let him free. and whatever it was – some survival instinct finally kicking in, or maybe he was just willing to play dirty as well – derg surged up after them, dripping water, and in that moment they were relaxed enough not to suspect, he grabbed hold of their scruff and, with a wrench of his body, flipped them into the water.

the water rushed in. over their head and eyes, but they could still breathe – after the first startled jolt of their heart, the sharp rise of their breath that had their forelimbs scrambling for purchase without their control, they calmed enough to let him hold them there, the still, exposed line of their throat under the water as clear a surrender as any.