wolf like me

"Tell me how it felt," Ashera said without preamble.

Silvercoat Ethel, half-herself, half-a woman Ashera had never met, tipped her head. "Perfect," she said. "Like--perhaps like being full after starving for a lifetime. But not quite."

"No?"

"No," Ethel replied, touching her abdomen. Silence. "I'm afraid I don't think it feels like anything else. Dying like that."

The mere suggestion made Ashera's mouth water. She had been yearning (centuries now) for the death Ethel had found, one of utter satisfaction. She ran her tongue over a canine and smiled at the sting, the taste of metal.

Ethel smiled back.