Joji stood within the witch's isolation barrier once more.
He remembered the three days he had spent trapped here with the women.
They had spent that time trading body heat and sharing their most intimate depths. The memory of those days hung heavy in the air.
Shaking off the distraction, Joji ate the Heart of the Troll Chieftain.
The thing was tough, and worse, it kept knitting itself back together whenever he tore into it.
Frustrated, he sliced the heart into one long strip and forced himself to slurp it down as fast as he could before it had time to wriggle and regenerate again.
The witch watched from the side, wondering all over again what sort of creature Joji truly was.
More and more, she found herself leaning toward the thought that he was something like her, a spirit born of nature.
Yet she had never heard of any being that grew stronger simply by eating.
Whatever the truth was, she knew this much. It had to remain secret, even from Walpurgis.
