And why shouldn't they be? [ He shoots a venomous look back over his shoulder at the brightness of the gaiety behind them, tip of his tongue raking over the tips of his teeth behind his closed mouth. His disdain is something that humms off his skin like a well-struck chord. ]

They've a crowd of puppets happy to dance at the gentlest tug of a string. Even a mabari would have better sense than to trust it.