let's do the time warp again

[notyetlegend]

MERIDA COURT Seelie, neutral INFLUENCE ★ ★ ★ TITLE Friend of the Dead, Hartslayer, Brave Heart, Lady Lioness of DunDealgan OCCUPATION Lady of DunDealgan. archer, huntress, swordswoman AGE 20 ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL wings given to Angus via a boon in December 2,700 as of September 2,701 will have a ring that can teleport her to places she's been before in Seelie territory COMMUNICATION METHODS compass, given by Korra (sangilak) and made by Hermione (brainiest) that will give network access and point to 'home' (place/person/etc) capable of sending correspondence via bird, mainly ravens RESIDENCE IN 2,701 DunDealgan, south of Daonna RESIDENCE IN 2,702 DunDealgan, south of Daonna MAJOR EVENTS BEAST MASTER Due to being the only one able to get close to Cu Chulainn and calm him down while in werewolf form, locals around the area of DunDealgan start to regard Merida as a beast master of sorts. Considering how she feels about his warp spasms, she doesn't exactly like this apparent appointment but if it's to protect him from any sort of torches-and-pitchforks scenario, she'll take it on. [ ✖ ] TRUST IN BLOOD A search through Treun for the escaped convicts of Leathann turns into a dangerous situation. In a moment of desperation, Merida accidentally kills a convict who has the intent of doing something unsavory to her. Traumatized, it's Gilgamesh of all people who pulls her through and reassures her that she did nothing wrong. The golden king, unwittingly, earns himself her trust and loyalty. [ ✖ ] LADY LIONESS The year had seen to a great deal of change in Merida. Not just in something deciding that her fate lay within the other court, but in herself and the actions that she took, in the thoughts that she processed. Some part of her became...less idealistic, as it were, more open to the idea that this was war. It had taken her just near a year in the Drabwurld to accept that as fact, that she'd only be seeing home in her dreams, and half a year later to find it in herself to move on. This land of the fae was her reality now. These were her people. And that was why she needed to protect them. [ ✖ ] MAJOR CHANGES SORCERESS Merida has started to take her magical studies more seriously than before. By the end of the time skip, she should be appropriately trained in all the magics she has taken on, both fire and runic magic. WARRIOR Likewise, Merida has been honing her combat skills throughout the year. With a new sword from Diarmuid as of August and a new bow from Wan as of Yule, she'll feel as though she'll be better prepared for any of the future battles. Having killed her first human (accidentally), Merida starts accepting the idea that it's okay to kill people sometimes.

PLANS co-parenting wolfhound pups with Lancer fire magic training shard training become known as some kind of beast master by the locals visit the new Barrel once a month bandit stomping along a trade route with Korra swan shooting competition with Gilgamesh in April Treun tourney Samhain White Hart Hunt II: the Hart's Revenge SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS For the most of it, Merida will be working on training in both her fire magic and her shard, along with learning some runes from Lancer, when she's not taking part in any of the events happening. Gaining influence in the surrounding area. Strengthening and being able to control her magic will be one of her primary focuses. She'll also be helping out around DunDealgan since she'll feel partially responsible for everyone there, considering she's courting its Lord. Many of her efforts will be going towards building up better personal relations between DunDealgan and the natives surrounding the area. Another thing that I have planned is for her to open up a combat school for women of either court and/or natives only, offering it as a place of refuge during times of battle, and once she's lost her idealism and become a little more war hardened, offer her students out as mercenaries. This will all take time, possibly over the course of two time skips, but ideally I'd like to start planning things out now. TIMELINE OF EVENTS SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May) EARLY MARCH - waking up in Caer Glaem EARLY MARCH - chat with Saber EARLY MARCH - chat with Mako MARCH - making the fortress warm and toasty MARCH - helping Diarmuid control his fire MARCH - being defrosted by Gilgamesh, telling stories of the fae in exchange MARCH - holy Lugh it's a lion MARCH - bandit stomping with Korra LATE MARCH - chat with Ben LATE MARCH - the Barrel MARCH - monthly summary APRIL - things get frisky thanks to the harp (NSFW) APRIL - Diarmuid's birthday at the Barrel APRIL - breaking the harp MAY - swan hunting competition with Gilgamesh. interruption by bandersnatch MAY - running into Ben MAY - monthly summary SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug) TREUN - spectating post tournament TREUN - exploring the markets and drinking TREUN - shopping and talking with Saber TREUN - chat with Hiro TREUN - dancing with Alyosha JUNE - monthly summary JULY - talking with Gilgamesh during beachdraidh JULY - bar fight JULY - helping Diarmuid with CSI: Daonna JULY - reassuring Lancer and going home AUGUST - training and talk with Diarmuid AUGUST - to the Sunsoak Markets. Diarmuid asks an important question AUGUST - monthly summary FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov) SEPTEMBER - visiting Alice SAMHAIN - relaxing with the bae SAMHAIN - talking with the Shuck SAMHAIN - dancing and talks with Diarmuid SAMHAIN - relaxing and talking with Sam SAMHAIN - adventures in Scima with Gilgamesh SAMHAIN - what happens in Samhain stays at Samhain NOVEMBER - team up with Wan in Daonna NOVEMBER - archery lessons with Wan NOVEMBER - trouble in Treun (cw: sensitive topics) WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb) DECEMBER - rematch with Saber DECEMBER - meeting Diarmuid in fox form DECEMBER - celebrating first year anniversary with Lancer (NSFW) JANUARY - the Barrel FEBRUARY - the Barrel SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr, May) MARCH - QUEST: skeleton zombies MARCH - post quest wind down. serious talks with Sam (cw: sensitive topics) APRIL - Station date with Hiro LATE APRIL - lone fox LATE APRIL - furry time at the Barrel MAY - stopping Alice from doing something stupid ಠ_ಠ

( codes by whambam )

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[notyetlegend]

[Her tail twitches in his grasp and she makes a tiny grr noise, though it's playful in tone, even with the yip at the end, a happy sounding bark. That made her more pleased than anything, she'd admit if he asked, to hear of Seelie and Unseelie working together.]

How do you feel now?

[She knows he hasn't felt the best for the last few months, especially after Samhain and the argument he had with Cu Chulainn.]

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh is more than a little shocked himself, though in retrospect, he really shouldn't be. Humans were the most dangerous sort of creatures when cornered, even the smaller ones. Even Merida wasn't immune to that inherent nature all animals possessed: the vicious will to defend oneself.

Having retired from his own bandit killing spree for the time being, he'd caught a whiff of Merida's scent and meant to surprise her. Or at least he had until some brute had thrust his body upon hers with the foulest sort of intent and drawn his ire, and maybe if he didn't know her so well he would've just watched it happen. Maybe he wouldn't have tailed him and maybe he wouldn't have sent a golden arrow flying between his eyes for the terrible transgression against one he considered if not friend, then at the very least companion.

But it's unnecessary. Merida stabs him to his death and the arrow finds its mark in his skull just as he falls, and so too falls the shocked woman. For a moment, something like worry strikes him. Had he managed to touch her too deeply, too intimately? Had he...

Gilgamesh's feet start moving before he can stop himself.]

Merida.

[She was kind to me. She was good to me, he thinks. So just this once, he'll be selfless for someone else's sake. Gilgamesh, the great tyrant who once committed the very same crime, the King of Heroes who spurned everyone and everything, reaches out to her to help.]

Merida. It's alright. Look at me.

[notyetlegend]

[For the moment, the only thing Merida can register is the sound of her blood rushing through her ears, hands cupping her mouth as her eyes closed, squeezing shut. She felt blood soak into the front of her dress from when she'd turned and her sword had gone through, knees dipped in it, red red red like apples. So much red. Merida's breathing hitched, hands moving to her ears. She hadn't meant to. Killing someone, even a disgusting man like this, she had never meant to happen.

Over the rushing of her own heartbeat, she manages to hear his voice. Somehow, through it, Gilgamesh's voice rings loud and clear like a bell, and she shakes her head for a moment. She's dreaming, she thinks to herself, shakily raising her head, gold taking over the red in her vision. For a moment she heaves like she's going to throw up, but nothing comes of it, except a voice croaking out.]

I didn't mean to.

[Merida struggles to clear her throat, hands dropping to her neck and looking away shamefully, pursing her lips together and struggling not to cry. She was fully aware of his intentions, and she didn't know what thought scared her more.]

[babbylon]

He deserved it.

[The words may seem callous and cold on the surface, but they're meant to ground her. Merida's drifting. If she drifts too far, she won't come back, and Gilgamesh won't allow that. She is his companion. Insanity won't claim her until he deems it appropriate. She will not lose herself without his say so.

Unclipping his cloak, he draws it around her shoulders. For protection. For warmth. For dignity. It is a simple thing, brown and rather ugly, but perhaps simple reminders are all she needs right now.

The simple reminder that she is still alive, that she is still well, and she's done nothing wrong.]

I want you to remember that, as we seek shelter. You were brave. You did not act in error.

[Because if she hadn't, he would've, as proven by the blood trickling from the fine hole between dead eyes.]

[notyetlegend]

[He deserved it. The words send shivers down Merida's spine, wrapping her arms around herself as she attempted to get control of her breathing. He wasn't like the first rabbit that she'd killed, innocent with an arrow sticking out of its body like the one between his eyes. For a moment, she's confused by that, before realising he must have done that, and for another moment, she's even more confused.

The cloak drapes around her shoulders, causing her to blink and look at him, bringing her back down like he intended. One of her hands immediately goes to close it around her a bit more, close it around the state of her dress and the unkempt remains of the chest area. Simple things were good. Simple things made the cold in the pit of her gut wither as she reached with her free hand to wipe at her eyes.

He deserved it.

The skin under her dress felt slimy, along her neck, her shoulder. Gilgamesh's next words make her nod, a little autonomously. She could witness hangings but this? This seemed to drive something through her like her sword did clean through his chest.]

My sword. [Words stammered and croaked out of her.] The medallion. [She vaguely remembered hearing it clatter out of the chest area of her dress.] Angus.

[Angus. Angus who was whinnying at the entrance to the alleyway. She could hear him, the sound familiar enough to block the rushing beat of her heart. Requests that those be taken with them, before she forgets.]

[oathshackledbird]

Right now? Light. At peace. Hopeful.

[Even if his conversation with Gilgamesh had left him worried about the golden king, his good feelings still remain. And, despite the fact his encounter with the White Hart ended in the majestic beast's death, he feels very alive at the moment.]

This was really a gift he gave to me. I will never forget this. Never.

[babbylon]

[It's a good sign. She can still speak; she can still stand. She isn't like some of those servant girls he once knew, touched this way once and never whole again. Merida is strong and Merida is brave and she will forget this violation soon enough, though he gets the feeling that what she's done shall haunt her for far longer.

Sentimental fool, he thinks to himself, moving to fetch the items without a word. Mercifully, he turns his back to her and blocks the view when he draws out the sword in a swift gory pull. He fishes around for the medallion, pockets it, and returns to her side with very stern instruction:]

Do not look down, Merida.

[To look down is to look at the sword. To look at the sword is to look at the blood. He takes her by the hand and leads her to Angus, takes up his reins and places them in her fingers to grant that degree of normalcy she'll need.

It is unwise for her to ride now, so uncertain and shaky, but he lets her lead her steed along as they make the quiet journey down the streets. And with her sword tucked under his arm, he yet holds onto her other hand, so that she is flanked by both a beloved steed and a trusted companion.]

[notyetlegend]

[He might be blocking her sight but the sound still reaches her ears and makes her flinch for some reason unknown to her. She's seen the accidents that the clansmen had during their training, before being turned and ushered away while insisting she could handle it. She remembered the sound of Mor'du's jaws ripping at her father's leg on her birthday, six or seven years old at the time and running away on her mother's horse, looking over Elinor's shoulder.

Don't look down. Merida murmurs it in a repeat under her breath, thinking it would be easier if she didn't feel like she should be looking down, but she swallows it down and lifts her head. The hand around hers is gripped with a strength tighter than a steel vice, white knuckled.

Angus is waiting at the entrance, front hooves stilling their anxious prance when Gilgamesh puts his reins into her free hand. Sensing her distress, he nuzzles the back of her neck as he's led, warm, familiar air ghosting across her shoulders as he hovers behind her, never any more than two steps. Slowly, Merida's fingers relax around Gilgamesh's, threading for the extra comfort.

She doesn't really relax until they're well a block away from the alleyway, and even then it's only marginally.]

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh sets the pace for them, subtly encourages her to imitate his gait: tall, strong, proud in spite of all that's happened. In truth, he doesn't remember when he took his first life, mind wandering off to a memory that doesn't exist. He doesn't recall how many he's killed, or when it became so effortlessly easy. That was the difference between himself and Merida: he was a god, and she was still just a girl. No matter how old she got, no matter how wise she became, she'd always trail thousands of years behind him.

He doesn't try to strike up conversation. She's a thousand years behind and a thousand miles away, mentally speaking, and Angus' soft huffs will calm her more than soft words ever could. He can tell she's reluctant to leave the horse behind once they reach an inn, and in deference to this, he lets her linger a little longer at the nearby stables.

Now, he will nudge at her, call out so that she doesn't risk drifting again when he's not looking. She must remain in this world. She must be brave. It was the very essence of who she was and he will not allow his companion to slip into darkness.]

Merida. Let's get you inside.

[He'd kill the next dirty mongrel that so much as grinned at her, he swears.]

[notyetlegend]

I'm happy for you. You deserve it.

[It was a strange thing to sound happy about, but the events of the last year had taught Merida that happiness was fleeting, if only for a few moments. She nuzzles his neck, resting her chin against his collarbone. It was the truth; her own success against the Hart last year had been accidental at best, but Diarmuid had earned it, earned it with every step of pain he'd taken in the past.]

[notyetlegend]

[There's no argument at the pace, too deep in herself as she idly matches it. Her dress feels sticky against her skin where the blood splattered, and Merida squeezed her eyes shut to push the thought back, steadying her breath. Blood had never bothered her before. She skinned rabbits and got rid of their guts with ease, watched blood seep into a deer's pelt after her arrow struck, sliced open fish as easily as fresh butter. That had been none of those things, nothing she was familiar with.

She's grateful Gilgamesh doesn't talk. It lets her slip away, lets her feel Angus nuzzling at her shoulder, a huff leaving him as he's placed in the stables, tail swishing behind him. He licks at her cheek as she holds his neck, fingers deep in his mane, warm tongue brushing over her skin and wiping away the slimy feeling. Her fingers leave, groping around her treat pouch and finding a stray apple before Gilgamesh has her attention, turning her head to look at him as Angus knocks the treat from her hand. He didn't want that (not right now, he'd have it later), making sure his rider was comforted was his priority right now, but she was being called away.]

Aye.

[It's small, but it's something. It doesn't come out croakily like her words back in the alleyway, but she strokes Angus' muzzle, whispers "I'll be back", and turns to him.]

[babbylon]

[That animal was quite something, Gilgamesh notes. He smiles a little at the display, pats the steed gently on the side and mutters with unusual softness:]

Good horse. Noble beast. You look after her well.

[And Angus can rest assured he'll get plenty of treats from both of them once the storm has passed. But it will do her no good to spend the night atop a pile of hay, which he suspects she'd sneak into if left to her own devices. That sort of bond was not accidental, not simply between a master and mount. They were partners just as much as they were friends.

Gilgamesh leads Merida inside, and thanks their luck they've found a quieter place to rest. Coins are handed over—and then a few more when she has her back turned, for better accomodations—and the last few steps are taken up the stairs, to a corner suite with plenty of room and a warm fire blazing.

Still holding the sword, still hiding it from her, Gilgamesh moves to fetch a basin and some water. First things first: cleaning up.]

Keep the cloak. The dress stinks something foul now; rid yourself of it.

[A test of trust, given he's just a few steps away in the washing area, but he's not even considering the ramifications of it.]

[oathshackledbird]

I don't know if I would say that I deserve it anymore than anyone else. We have all had a hard year. I am just grateful I was chosen.

[He leans his head into her nuzzling, enjoying this happy moment they can share together.]

Now that my story is done, will you tell me about what happened right before you got changed? Did you have any kind of warning before it happened? What did it feel like?

[scorchedchivalry]

[It was almost disappointing to not have to snatch an arrow Merida accidentally shot at her.

Saber shook her head, Bedivere eying the wolfhound as if deciding whether to torment it or go back to listening to Saber.]

I found tracks a mile back but they disappeared a hundred paces back.

[notyetlegend]

[Merida had gone from her rooms in Caer Scima to the stables just to sleep near Angus in the weeks after the fear dogs, before the nightmares were under control. He was more than just her horse; he was her best friend, the only friend she'd had back home and her only connection to home here. He was familiar, when it felt like she was forgetting DunBroch.

She's relieved when they enter that there's not many around downstairs, turning her head to look, taking it all in. She was starting to come back now, from the furthest reaches of her mind, her expression a little clearer. Her fingers have stopped shaking, drawing the shoulders of the cloak around hers as the stairs creaked underfoot. Looking at him, she'll need to remember to thank Gilgamesh later, when she's sound of thinking again.

The statement about the dress makes her hesitate, remembering the hand tearing at the string of her collar. Even with Gilgamesh just a few steps away, his back turned. Merida's jaw sets, swallowing the lump in her throat, and she starts undoing the string lacing her dress up, feeling the material brush over the spots where he'd touched her.

It was a pity. The dress was one of the nicer ones she had, but as she kicked it off, leaving her in the slip and cloak, she wanted nothing more than to burn it.]

I'm done.

[babbylon]

[Washing the sword proves easy enough, just a quick flick of cloth across the blade and then it's good as new. It feels almost silly to do, as killing was what it was made for. It feels almost silly to sit here and nurse a silly girl who didn't understand the way of the world back to good cheer and good health. It feels silly and yet here he is anyway, the great King of Heroes, cleaning a sword like some lousy stable boy.

He sets the sword aside to dry when he's done and drags the basin over to Merida. He looks her up, looks her down, then declares definitively:]

You need a wash, too. I can see some of it on your skin. It soaked through...

[Gilgamesh points, just over the spot, with his fingertip.]

...here. And it will do you no service to sleep as you are, muddied in it.

[He offers her the cloth. His expression is earnest. This is the rarest side of Gilgamesh—a Gilgamesh who really did live up to the class of knight he always claimed to be.]

I will leave and look away if you'd like. But I would do it for you, as well, and I would be kind if your hands are still uncertain, brave Merida.

[notyetlegend]

[She feels silly, stepping out of her boots and leaving them where they are. It's silly, and she knows she shouldn't feel like this. Fingers curl in the folds of the cloak around her shoulders, watching him clean her sword. Something she should be doing, she thinks to herself in the back of her mind. She stands there as he drags the basin over to her, eyes lingering on the sword before she looked at the water.

Merida lifts the cloak to look at where he points, knee lifting with the movement before she manages a small laugh at the notion of sleeping, the sound soft.]

You say that like I'm goin' to be able to sleep.

[She's talking at least, even as she eyes the cloth with uncertainty. There's little in the way of movement before Merida lets the cloak slip from her shoulders and to the floor, freeing her hands. Her voice goes quiet again, placing her hand on top of the one that offers her the cloth, but she neither takes it nor pushes it back to him.]

...Would you stay near if I ask you, King of Heroes?

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh, who has every intention of honoring his word, flicks his gaze away with the cloak gone. There is no desire within him for this woman. There is no urge to take advantage, as once there may have been. He looks upon her too fondly and some small part of him has drifted from that savagery which otherwise would've pressed an attack of a similar nature.

Perhaps Gilgamesh would still hurt a woman, if pushed to an extreme. Perhaps he would still claim a woman against her will, if feeling particularly greedy. But Gilgamesh would not hurt this one, and any death—if it ever became necessary—would be swift and merciful.]

I would stay as long you desired it.

[He pauses a moment, receptive as ever to his title. It is then reciprocated in turn with the fairest, sincerest respect.]

Lady Merida.

[notyetlegend]

You have my thanks, your majesty.

[No argument that she was 'just Merida' here, no noise about dropping the title. Being a princess or lady is meaningless here. Merida's shoulders relax from their pent up state, even as her stomach churns and she manages a grateful smile. It's funny; just last month she was running around half naked during Samhain without much of a care, chasing him up towers with nothing covering her breasts without any problem. Colour is beginning to return to her cheeks, gentle smile returning as she takes the cloth, then turns and steps into the basin.

With Gilgamesh nearby, she lets herself sink into the water, feeling it wash over her legs, then her torso and chest. Merida draws her knees up, though she doesn't neglect what she's actually there for. The cloth goes up, across her chest, along her neck and shoulder, washing away the lingering feeling of being touched. The blood is washed away, and she feels less sticky. Water is splashed on her face, hands drawing back to run along her neck, feeling. There's no marks, but it feels like they're everywhere.

She was lucky that Gilgamesh was in the area, she thinks, glancing over her shoulder at him as she ran the cloth along her arm. Merida inhales softly, exhaling in a small sigh as she let the water wash away everything.]

Tell me a story?

[notyetlegend]

[The wolfhound eyes Bedivere back before a click of Merida's tongue makes the growling in the back of his throat stop and he goes back to her side, ducking around behind Angus before poking his head out from around the draft horse's legs. Once he's listening to her, Merida sighs a little, brow drawing together as she turns her attention back to Saber.]

I was afraid you'd say that. Lorcan picked up some tracks a few hills ago but we haven't seen sight of anythin' since.

[notyetlegend]

I couldn't really tell what was going on.

[She'd argue that he deserved it a little more this year, but she leaves it at that. It's a happy moment and one she doesn't want to ruin, especially after the last couple of months. Merida rubs the bridge of her muzzle under his chin, then tilts her head away with her ears drooping and a shake of her head.]

I saw him, an' he looked at me. There was some kind of amusement on his face,,,well, I guess as amused as a deer can look anyway, an' then all I remember is a light for a few minutes. Then I woke up in the snow.

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh moves to sit on the floor with strangely natural movement. There's no kingly air here, no aura of inherent superiority. Just a man sitting across from a woman with his back turned, gazing into the crackling fire and willing his thoughts away from any unpleasantness. He listens to her bathe and lets the sounds soothe him, lets them take him from this uncertain time and return him to one he knows.

The hands of a servant girl, bathing him in reverence. The laughter of his dearest friend, enjoying a rare moment of peace in a desert oasis. He shuts his eyes and feels them, hears them again. Even if he cannot call Merida his friend, she can be a source of a stability for him. They can be both be brave together, as fellow heroes and adventurers. That is enough, for now and forever.]

A story, huh...?

[Merida, curious little thing that she is, has no doubt been devouring tales of his Epic where she can find them. But there's yet more to be written. So he'll treat her to this world's first telling of some of the rest, leaning back and losing himself in the legend.]

Alright. Well, Merida, I bet you didn't know I had a suitor once. And she was a goddess.

[notyetlegend]

[The sound of the water and the crackle of the fire makes her relax, wringing the cloth out and hanging it over the side of the basin. Merida watches the way the surface ripples as she moves her arms, wrapping them around her drawn up knees. She was, slowly, starting to feel like herself, like she hadn't just accidentally killed someone, horrible as he was. With Gilgamesh's presence, she was starting to feel stronger, remembering the reaction she'd had to her first rabbit. She'd cried, young as she had been, having mangled the shot, and then over time it got easier. Now she skinned them without a problem, shot them easier.

Was that going to be the same? Of course not, but it was something to keep in mind as she waited for his response to her request, resting her cheek on her knees. It was funny. Everything she'd heard about Gilgamesh seemed to point that this would usually be the opposite of what he'd do, though all their encounters seemed to be that. Sometimes she wondered, she thought to herself as she stared down at her wriggling toes.

His response makes her look over her shoulder, red curls draping along her back as she pushes them out of the way. She should probably wash her hair too, she thinks to herself, and before going to dip her head under the water, she speaks.]

You must've caught her eye if a goddess came for you.

[oathshackledbird]

He might be a deer in form, but his eyes are the eyes of something much older and wiser.

[Diarmuid can remember the look in the White Hart's eyes during those seconds when he was driving his spear into the great animal's heart. There was no fear. There was no pain or anger. Instead, there was a deepness, an agelessness. A glimpse into something that never dies a true death.]

It's good to know he still has his sense of humor. I guess that is what makes him different from...his brother.

[notyetlegend]

Aye, I think that makes all th' difference. I don't think he'd be able to find th' humour in it if he was grumpy.

[Like the Shuck, though she doesn't say that. There was no argument from her that the Hart was different, she had gathered that much from their encounter. Merida thought back to what the Black Shuck had said to her, during their brief encounter on Samhain. These the world's last nights. She still pondered over that meaning.]

Gods know he'd probably chase you down if that was the case.