I guess in a way, what I do write has a sense offamiliarity that most would understand if context were to be vague. Forexample: there are those days...in which I can sit here, wonder about lifeand the meaning I myself bring into it. Why am I here? Why do I exist? I mean, that's pretty clich?. I'm sure most would kill to get a chanceto speak to Fate himself in order to find out. That is, assuming thatFate is a person...let alone a man. However, I would be willing to wagerthat I perhaps am. The boy looked little better when healed, blood and sweat and mud and sperm still staining his skin. Zai crouched over the boy and took the opportunity to look at his face.Sleeping the boy looked almost peaceful. His black hair was a mess, his features slack and ghostly in the moonlight. But he had soft skin, high cheekbones, a good strong jaw, a narrow nose. Zai bent over his prey and kissed the slack unconscious lips, soft against his short fur. He smiled. The boy tasted somewhat of fear and. More

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