ECLIPSE
Eclipse tried real hard not to stare rudely at the doll that looked like something that suffered from despair itself.
For one, it had been stitched back far too many times that its original shape was now uncertain by default.
It was hard to tell if the doll was originally the shape of a scowling, Lycan shifter, or the shape of the deformed werewolves their ancestors fought five hundred years ago.
Indeed, it was that grotesque.
Even more so given the amount of care that Violet exercised while she placed it on the seat between them.
Like the battered doll was a treasure beyond reproach. And maybe it was. Eclipse just didn't understand how that could be.
"Your doll seems to have survived centuries of wars." She inserted quietly, observing the woman.
Violet stared at her pointedly. "It has survived many wars. Especially from my sister."
"Your twin?" Eclipse asked.
