but in his voice I heard decay

[Ezekiel de le Poer]

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     They should have been brothers-in-arms, but Ezekiel carried a dark resentment. He hated the fact that something he had invested so much time and care into had abandoned him. His mother had done the same thing, and it sickened him to his stomach every time he thought of that fact. Perhaps that was why he had come after the stranger, Haven, without any thought beyond violence. Ezekiel needed someone to understand, and he could not speak this. The only way he could communicate was through his body, through pain and blood.
     Any sort of placidity left his face, and he staggered back at the shove. “Fuck you,” he spat, fur bristling. They would understand one another when this was over. Both had been hurt, and betrayed, and even though it should have been Siobhan who took the brunt of his anger it was Haven who had to. With another burst of speed, the coyote pushed forward and threw his hand towards the wolf’s face.

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