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Do you think they'll be expecting us?
Of course not. What reason would they have to expect our return?
Still—aren't you disappointed that our return will be unmet by brother and family?
C'mon Lil. You know me and every turn of my mind. Why would I ever turn my muzzle down at the element of surprise?
Sometimes I forget how old you've become.
Silver mist was rolling in among the trees, illuminated only by piercing shafts of moonlight. The night's liquid darkness lay heavy over the earth, pooling like viscous oil beneath the trees. The two, wolf and lamb (but which was which?) were simply flitting spectres among the vast and unencumbered darkness. They were shadows—stretching and undulating over the earth—accompanied only by the soft and haunting sound of their own breath and the leathery hiss of Lilómiel's wings.
As it always seemed to be, it had been a long time since their last foray into Helovia, even longer since they had met with brother or mother or farther or family. She remembered her nieces and nephews with a sharp eye, naturally; but she found that she cared little and less for the follies of her brother's life. If there was one thing she had found while absent, it was a peace that had settled in her heart and soothed away the aches and pains of her tedious self-absorption and ambition. Her hunger—her rampant and venomous desire, always prevailing—had at long last yielded beneath the embrace of logic and fathomable content.
Well?
I don't know.
A hesitation—a pique in curiosity, a knife-edge desire to the tone of his next thought.
Divide and conquer?
Patience, love. We'll see.
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions
