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A gentle touch brought Jeren from the shadows where shed found respite. At first she thought it was Shan. It had to be Shan. The Enchassa tipped her head to one side, her lips curving to a smile.So determined. I warned you about blood, didnt I? About the blood to come? You should have given in there and then. It all would have been so much easier. And that was? Strong hands caught her before she could hit the ground, arms that moved so quickly that they blurred. But she could still see their porcelain pale skin, marked with patches of a blue as vibrant as a summer sky in spirals and whorls, as if a child had painted it with overlong fingers. Despite the easy familiarity of the path, there is something of a spring in the farmers step. Hes on his way to visit with his friend. He enjoys the old hippies company more than he enjoys anybody else’s. He’s not really one for friends, though he knows enough people to clutter his mantelpiece with unreciprocated cards each birthday. He has no shortage of associates; men he’s known all his life, hard-grafting Herdwick and Swaldedale men, fighting to keep their farms in profit, battling the weather, trying to live within nature and despite it. But Arthur is the first person in a long time to have actually qualified as a proper mate, like he used to have when he was at school. She would rather die than be left behind. As the rain doubles back on itself in an effort to slap him twice, Rowan is beginning to regret turning down Pickles offer to run him back to the Byre. It hadnt looked as far as this on the small glowing rectangle of his phone. Hes cold, and the pleasing conviviality of a long liquid lunch has been replaced by a cold that seems to bleed into his bones. He keeps shivering inside his borrowed coat – some stiff, waxed affair that Snowdrop had purloined from a cupboard up at the big house and left on his doorstep along with a basket of warm pain-au-raisin, a coffee and a strip of Ibuprofen. She’d left a note too, incandescent over Serendipity’s insistence she join her at work rather than spend the day with her uncle. She promised that she’d be over later to go over the files’. Its Violet, she corrects her, stepping forward and putting out a hand to be shaken. The little woman seems to appreciate the gesture. Her hand in Violets is plump and warm, the nails bitten down and ringless. Squeezed between the pages in her clutched sketch pad, her creation nodded its approval. Some monsters are invincible in the darkness. They needed to be dragged out into the light, kicking and screaming. Rowan gives Catherine his full attention.Theres an unedited version, you know, he smiles. “Much more X-rated. Shan knew all about wolves. When he thought she wasnt looking his eyes still scanned the horizon for the grey wolf who had been his companion. More than a companion, more than his friend, his totem animal. Part of his soul, hed said, that was the only way he could explain it. Anala had given her life for them both. Millward holds her gaze. She realises that the muscle in her cheek is twitching again. She can hear the rain against the glass and the constant shushing of traffic on the nearby road. How Woe was supposed to recoil at her eventual defiance, to shrink back while the well-orchestrated finale brought her demise. The heroine faces her fear…and refuses it. Her antagonist is destroyed. Isnt that the screenplay for a happy ending? Glara me, Glara me, mRashine. Another sound came to her now, laboured breath, the slow scrape of cloth and skin on stone... someone crawling. Copyright© 2020 Linda S. Prather Make me, she teased, despite her exhaustion. When I was a kid, chipped in her dad, wed do stuff like that just to get in trouble. Draw dicks in the margins of our maths books, that kinda thing. Imogen nudges her stepmums leg. Gives her a look of mild interest then slowly turns to look at Rowan. It was all right. Hes not that funny, but I liked it when you talked about the dead people..