Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
What kind of work? Sabrina wants to know. What kind of work did Sinner and Crevan do together? Well … what kind of work would a hellhound and a freakishly strong, immortal wolf do together? The kind of work you don’t tell children about, even if they’re whelped from the belly of a demon. He only grins wickedly in response to the question, before taking to his meal and watching the she-pup some more.
He’s not exactly sure what she’d been expecting from this encounter. He’d shared a kill done by his work alone, let her come near to him and amuse him because she was young. But when Sabrina lifts herself to stand on rust-colored paws, wrinkling her nose with a defiant, nearly self-satisfied air, Crevan raises his head from the bare bone of the deer hip and goes unnaturally still.
“Tell me something, oh fearsome one,” He mocks her, never raising his voice. The dark, voidless rims of his indigo eyes burn softly. “Which is more terrifying? Something you can see, or something you never know is coming?”
Beqanna fears the unknown. Children tucked in beside their parents weave nightmares from nothing. A threat that may or may not be out there leaves an enemy sick with worry and dread. Just think of the plague, ruining life at such a microscopic scale. Sabrina, if she used her dual gifts wisely, could defeat someone without ever having to engage in a fight at all.
Crevan grew quiet again, content to tear away more skin from the deer and move from eating hips to eating ribs. “You’re pretty terrifying though. I’ll give you that.” He mumbles through a mouthful, feeling his belly expand. A faint grin wrinkles his nose in amusement. “Never took Sinner for the fatherly type, but you certainly seem like something of his making. What’s he up to these days?”
@[Sabrina]