quite eradicated
“He’s very smart. Too smart,” Ezekiel admitted, a chunk of hair falling in his face. He reached to his bag and produced a hand-rolled cigarette. “His father was something else, though. Marlowe could read and quote everything he had ever seen. He stole his name from a man, too.” There was a fondness and a bitter sadness in his voice as he reflected on the bird. Of all the losses, that had been the sharpest. Gabriel and Talitha were not dead. Marlowe was—he had been shattered by a mountain, of all things.
The coyote leaned forward and lit the cigarette from a coal, taking several puffs to start the tobacco and clove mixture. Once it was comfortably burning, he took a long drag and savored the comfortable burn of smoke against his tongue. “I’ll look, sometime.” It was not a true confirmation of his plans—trading did not always take, despite the loss to their supplies. Much could be gained by familiarizing his face with the other leaders. Salsola and Ichika he knew, as was the newest south of them. Even Anathema was somewhat familiar, at least from what he had been told by his cousin. “Why did you decide to live up here, Myrika? You’re a bit out of the way, you know.” A soft tease, though his eyes remained sharp.
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