Wheeling Gull Isle glory

it made a sound between an entertained chuckle and a dismissive snort.

"gaze of god." the beardog turned to face the preacher. "more a slave, than i assumed. was any of this ever a choice, bartholomew?" it sat on its haunches and spread its arms to encompass the cave, the island, the act which had brought a corpse there. "were you raised, like a sheep, for a single purpose only?"

it lowered its paws to the ground, and leaned forward, head crooked slightly to a side. "were you ever given a way out?"