Cyril came tearing through The Veil and Catalina pounced like an alley cat, kicking out the backs of his legs so he hit the ground beneath her. She gripped his hair in her fist, her foot slamming down on his spine to hold him there as she spoke in his ear, “Hello, Cyril.” He turned his head, taking her in with wide eyes, lips quivering. “Wh-where am I?” Hamish stepped forward, crouching low and glaring like a heathen. “This is the deep, dark yonder, you sandy flan of a fellow.” “Crucia is calling you,” Catalina growled, rising to her feet and dragging Cyril along by the hair. “I’ll take you to
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God i love her
