Puppy. The word is disdainful and Misery chases Damian's voice away - she does not have patience for his sour attitude. The sound is clear to her sharp ears and she grins, showing aged, worn teeth. He rushed to her like a child to its mother and Misery grinned, leaning her delicate weight on the carved stave. It was a present from Psyhke, the daughter of poor Anzu - Anzu who died so the boy before her bright eyes could live. She takes him in with warm affection, pulling him close for a hug. It has been far too long since she has seen this boy. He reminds her so much of Gin it makes her ache, and she wonders, so very often, what became of that boy.
"Tak has blessed you." The words escape her as a soft, warm murmur and she affectionately nips at one of his ears. Her black and white boy, so brave and bold. She loves him as deeply as she loved those children long ago - the long gone Poe and Samhain. Even thinking of them kills her and she wonders where all the time has gone. "You have done well, my little Lark." He looks happy and healthy, she is thrilled. There is a violence in him that worries her...that violence can attract unwelcome attention. "Tell me, what have you done?"