Smoke and noise filled the hall. Under the torchlight, the stench of roasted meat, alcohol spills, and perspiration hung heavy. Fire curled up the sides, casting restless shadows over hungry features. not merely a desire for food. hunger for a location. a desire for power.

One more Blood Moon meeting. We spent yet another evening trying to convince each other that we were valuable, as if devotion were offered on platters of mead and bone-picked bones.

With my hands wrapped around a ...