candleburn

[Hezekiah Finch]

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In truth, Hezekiah wasn’t entirely sure what to make stranger. He wasn’t like the wolf that had been hanging around their borders from weeks ago, certainly wasn’t anything like the blue-eyed monster that had chased he and Snake away from Dahlia de Mai. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was a wolf — there was something remotely familiar about his features. But the fence-like stance of the pikes between them skewed his ability to perceive him and it was no matter specie, wolf or coyote, he had reason to be wary. Especially of one that he could so acutely smell the alcohol on.



“They’ve all got stories,” he replied confidently, sure of this. Every one of those skulls—from man to canine to bovine and whatever else they had set up—had a story. They had a life at some point, or so Hezekiah was inclined to believe. But he did not return the smile. “What brings you here?” Instead he studied the glimmer of silver he saw through that skewed view, trying to ultimately decide whether or not the hybrid was lingering for a reason or just there to stir trouble.

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