A yank pulled a section of the skin away, though the process in a whole would not be very difficult. He had skinned many animals but been unable to tan their hides. With Misery here the process was easier—she could instruct him in what to do, and perhaps aid in his prize. These thoughts kept him distracted from a none-too silent approach. He did not fail to recognize the teeth on his foot. It was a sharp reminder that the children were growing quickly. Pandemic did not look as young as the other two, though Salvia was quickly catching up to him. It seemed as if Wretch, the runt, would always be the smallest of the trio.
“Yer gonna have t’watch those teeth ah-yers,” he commented, looking over his shoulder to spy on his coal-black son. “They're gittin’ pretty sharp.” It did not indicate that the boy had done wrong, but Larkspur had seen the way his children played. Pan’s sheer size gave him power over the two girls, while Salvia grew aggressive and Wretch found underhanded ways to trick the other two. Perhaps the dark god that marred her fur was not as distant as he had thought. “Y’hungry?” He asked.
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