Bearclaw Valley You're on your own

there was music in violence. perhaps that was something which which he could work, though somehow this was made doubtful by how happily ashlar had answered. merrick did not think he had ever before met anyone so uncorruptible.
this plagued the boy, dejected him, fired his hungers in a deeper way and one yet unexplored.
"do you ever make up songs yourself?" the coywolf asked, keeping up the veneer of intrigue so that he might reach beneath it, snatch the machinations inside ashlar's pure little mind. he thus focused himself upon the pretty joiner, wondering, waiting how to lurk beneath the words of each spoken sentence.