The Sunspire The sound of their tongues being bitten is all I hear.

Sivugat had hoped the man old and feeble and found the opposite. He had also hoped to lure the man through the mud or towards a ledge, to see how nimble those little legs of his could be.

Instead there came a call, and the glare of an eye.

Petulant with distance, Sivugat raised a hind leg and let fly a yellow stream which he hoped would carry down-wind. He stepped carefully along the grass and let his claws cut the earth, feeling proud despite the red of blood seeping from the tear in his skin.