He pulled it free and he had snagged something with his hand. They were black, satin and they hung from his fingers to his obvious horror. Fackin’ �...�ell. Someone got lucky!” cackled the cabbie. He squirmed a little and smiled sheepishly. “Left ‘er mark too on yer neck!” The cackling grew louder, “Merry fackin’ Christmas eh? Eh?” He smiled uncomfortably. The raucousness of the cabbie’s laughter boomed through the Perspex wall between them. Pushing her hand into his jacket pocket with a quiet. The older and larger drake stood in the doorway of the room with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was leaning against the doorframe, his 7 foot frame hunched slightly to fit. Raanciel looked away and turned towards his pack. He closed the flap of his leather bag and threw the strap over his shoulder. He stood and looked at his brother with a frown. “There is nothing to reconsider. I cannot stay here,” Raanciel said and walked up to his brother and stared up at his towering form.. More

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