The elemental woman was always close to the cat: as the elemental man was always but a point removed from the wolf. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. The months that followed September spiraled downward. “How do you feel?” she asked. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. “I am getting to watch all women. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. I do not command the services of a person who will not tell me why he offers them.
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