Our pack’s done. Our army’s rotting on the pales. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame me. I don’t blame the troops. I blame the mobs that balked and the politicians that connived.” So much for that spark I was seeking. I leave Aurae’s book in my bag. Screw doesn’t need words. He needs to go home. “All the same…bitch to me, not the men,” I say.
