Wild Berry Meadow pestilence-stricken multitudes

‘They found other ways to betray me.’
 
He grunted, then, in wordless, unvocalized acknowledgement.
 
It was just further proof that friends—or family, or allies, or whatever the fuck meaningless title people chose to call the extras in their lives—were never worth it in the end. Sooner or later, everyone fucked you over.
 
Sooner or later, the goals changed, and with it, your purpose and use.
 
Fucking shitty, but, ultimately, it was whatever.
 
What was not whatever, however, was Frosty’s next choice of words.
 
‘You know what I like about you, Daighre? No surprises. You're very consistent.’
 
He growled, then, felt his hackles bristle along his shoulders, neck, and spine, and his ears flattened back against the top of his head.
 
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean, short stack?”