Brenda held her breath as Malcolm's spectral form dissipated, the connection to Tristan severed once more. It was Liza who eventually broke the quiet, her usual irreverence tempered by the weight of what they'd just witnessed.
"Well, that was downright bloody cheerful, wasn't it?" she quipped, though her eyes held a glimmer of concern. "Leave it to my daft uncle to stumble arse-backwards into another catastrophic shitshow with the Cysgodol's resident femme fatale."
Agnes made a noise that could have been a snort or a sigh – it was hard to tell with the gruff crone. "Mind your impudent tongue, child," she rasped, though there was little heat in the rebuke. "Your uncle may be a hardheaded fool at times, but he's also one of the strongest, most cunning wolves our clan has ever produced."
"
