I dragged my knife down the stone wall over and over until a nice fat divot formed in the crust. Villie stood at the alley entrance keeping watch and bounced around like an elf on meth. It was a loud process, carving poetry into stone, but the tiny sparks and rock dust that scattered around my feet were pretty satisfying in a primal way. I scraped and scratched and Villie paced with anxiety until finally the words
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to , or click here to log in.