It is the duty of example. ( His eternal soul, damned. Fool, we do not walk hell's mouth, fire does not breathe upon us. For all heat emanates like claws and lashing, as they traverse the long, greedy stretch of the corridors.

And under, when the underworld's maws open. And under, still.

Flicked extension of his body is the silent call to move, the animal quality of the chase. He hears no steps, yet feels pursued. At his side, Mo Ran, more thorn than man, is at once a rope of safe travel and a noose. )

How may we free your soul, young master? ( This commodity, so readily exchanged, perhaps at a fraction of its going rate. )