Grizz frowned over at Lin. Something was wrong with her, but he couldn’t put a talon on what exactly. Her expression told him that he couldn’t simply ask her what was wrong, her bearing was that of a snapping turtle pulled into its shell. And the connection between them was weakened by whatever Baba Yaga had done to him.

The village across the river had gone dark. No candles in the windows and no smoke rising from the chimneys. Whatever was going on in Lin’s mind, Grizz dreaded it more than he had feared anything since the notion to betray his creator and fall to the earth had first occurred to him. This thought tickled something in Grizz’s mind. A curiosity that had been creeping in ever since his rebirth as a tattoo.

How did he remember his time in heaven? The old devil had spent many days talking about his old conquests in the fires of hell, which people he tortured and his exact methods of doing so. He had taken great pleasure in the discomfort these stories had caused others. All to distract himself from his own discomforts. From remembering that he had forsaken his family and purpose all in the name of choice.

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No. That was simply a rationalization made after the fact to imply his choice was wild and free in nature. Self-centered. Exactly how he wanted everyone to perceive him. Being a monster made living as a demon easier. Thus, he was careful to never tell any stories from before the fall. For what kind of monster would create empathy and humanity’s capability for caring? (Perhaps the most insidious.)

So how did he, a construct of Lin’s creation, know what she didn’t? That seemed impossible. And yet, he could still recollect the face of God with picture perfect accuracy. Though a picture could never capture perfection.

Grizz looked down at his red talons, rippling and roiling like lake water under a calm breeze. Could a tattoo capture perfection?

Grizz snorted. He was never perfect to begin with, and he would have hated himself had he attained such a mundane status. And yet, he couldn’t help but pray that Lin might find her own way into such an esteemed status. He feared it was either that, or death.

Death would be a mercy compared to the fate he feared she might suffer.