"Try looking in the rats' bellies." Lips aplenty. It must have been a feast at first, though Wren doesn't know what they've been eating since. Each other, she supposes. "Perhaps the Nevarrans have the right of it with that perfume."
You know. The kind he drinks. Not that she really gives a damn either: A childhood chopping offal, Val Royeaux in high summer, these things accustom you to odour.
Wren crams the body in as best it'll fit, but he was a tall man in life, and a dusty forearm sways out creaking. She wipes the knife on a bit of exposed sleeve, steps back to regard the arrangement.
(A moment to breathe, only. This is no real puzzle. They can snap off the limb and pack it separately.)
"I did not realize you had been within." Only so many ways to make a deal — particularly with a customer base in confinement — but it's one thing to picture him conducting business in an alley, and another between these walls. "Before all this."
no subject
"Try looking in the rats' bellies." Lips aplenty. It must have been a feast at first, though Wren doesn't know what they've been eating since. Each other, she supposes. "Perhaps the Nevarrans have the right of it with that perfume."
You know. The kind he drinks. Not that she really gives a damn either: A childhood chopping offal, Val Royeaux in high summer, these things accustom you to odour.
Wren crams the body in as best it'll fit, but he was a tall man in life, and a dusty forearm sways out creaking. She wipes the knife on a bit of exposed sleeve, steps back to regard the arrangement.
(A moment to breathe, only. This is no real puzzle. They can snap off the limb and pack it separately.)
"I did not realize you had been within." Only so many ways to make a deal — particularly with a customer base in confinement — but it's one thing to picture him conducting business in an alley, and another between these walls. "Before all this."