Sera's creature watched what passed through her then—flashes all she could see was teeth, hands, white rooms. They weren't these rooms, but older ones. She could hear the sound of drills, the weight of chains.
Her creature seemed to be cataloguing every memory and it did not flinch at what it found.
"What scares me is other people holding leashes," she admitted finally. "Thinking they can tug until I choke and I'll just… obey."
Kearns had gone very still.
Mercer didn't apologize. "Leashes work on dogs," he returned. "On wolves, they're a mistake. I'm trying to determine which you are."
The creature inside of Sera bristled, amused and faintly offended all at once. We are neither. We eat both.
Sera's lips curved. "You're going to need better questions."
"Then we move to better tools," Mercer concluded.
He tapped something out of view.
