[ The hyena reaches in to the spread of Brandon's hands, wanting to feel the ridge that peels open. He rubs his thumb along the hardened lump of reanimated flesh. An obscene little theater, but Ivor has assuredly seen worse, involved himself in worse with his sadistic monster of a sister, in this land of blood and meat and witches. ]
no subject
The Hill is always ours, one way or another.
[ He murmurs it as his fingers wiggle inwards. ]