Kkrya could find Fátrwa nowhere. The Wind Paws claimed that she had retreated to the northeast. Why she had chosen to go alone was a mystery. Kkrya wanted to apologize to her for not keeping her promise. Then she would speak to Kkelea, no longer as a matriarch to her heir, but as a mother to her daughter
Night had fallen, and little was visible now. For a moment, Kkrya distrusted the Wind Paw's words. She knew that many of them still held a grudge against her for sending them to the wall. Had she lied to her to tire her out? For there were no footprints on the ground. She resigned herself and decided to go back. Suddenly she felt a presence at her back, but it was too late. The dagger, cold and merciless, pierced her lung. She wanted to scream, but she could not. Barely a whisper escaped her mouth, imperceptible, stealthy, like the one that had attacked her. The dagger was pulled from her body and then plunged back in again, and again, and again.
In that cold winter night, far from her beloved land, far from her beloved traditions, Kkrya heard Kkale's sweet voice calling her. Her last thoughts were of Kkelea, the one she loved most
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Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I
FantasyIn the middle of the savannah lives a tribe of hyaenids, men half hyena, and what some humans of the Seasonal Continent call gnolls. A small cub, victim of constant mistreatment, sleeps amidst nightmares and lives without desire. Until he meets the...
