Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; defeats are only temporary setbacks. “I must go. This happened after he ate. He might not condone it, but the feelings that had prompted it augured well for Melusine’s safety.
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