“Mortals are hot-blooded, quick to anger, quick to fight,” he said. “It has been your flaw these centuries past. Perhaps it will be your salvation too.” Corayne chewed the inside of her cheek. Elders anger too, if you are any measure, she thought hotly. She wanted nothing more than to scold him. You are a pot on a slow boil, angry since the moment I met you, trying to grieve with no idea how, seeking revenge without direction. You are a predator with nothing to hunt.
