[b]Canada![/b]

There is a shadow at the heart of the sun. Look closer. There is a city in the heart of the sun. It is a thing of dreadful spires and terrible want. Look closer. It is a gnarled hand grasping outwards, each tower a finger. It is a terrible black that defines itself against that which it occludes. Look closer.

There are five thrones. They are seated there. Your eye waters. There are five thrones and five shadows.

[hider=Make Your Choice][b]Look Upon The Bull-headed God[/b]
[i]He is twisting the limbs off of something. Maybe it is an insect.[/i]

[b]Look Upon The Lion-headed Goddess[/b]
[i]It is possible that she is simply scratching herself, one leg thrown over the arm of the chair as she yawns.[/i]

[b]Look Upon The Vulture-headed God[/b]
[i]His beak pokes out of his all-concealing robes as he surrounds himself in language that burns.[/i]

[b]Look Upon The Horse-headed God[/b]
[i]Their head is sunken into their hands, their shoulders shaking as they sob with laughter.[/i]

[b]Look Upon The Hyena-headed Goddess[/b]
[i]She winds cloth around a struggling head, meticulously slow, excruciatingly tight.[/i][/hider]

***

[b]Anathet![/b]

You send the idiot flying into a table, with a little more force than you meant. Which is bad, because there were some sullen Salamanders drinking at that table. And Salamanders may drink soporifics, but that just makes them crankier when it’s disrupted.

They come boiling out at you, tails lashing and many arms flexing, and you need to do something about what’s going on, [i]now![/i] Show the bouncer that you’re a big girl, that you can handle yourself, that you’re not about to cry! She’s already on the move, halfway to you, so you only have a moment to really, [i]really[/i] make an impression!

Or stand there and get a fist the size of your head to the face. That works too.

***

[b]Étoile![/b]

Tamytha’s veiled smile is relieved and shaky, and her eyes are so soft and dark and lovely, you could melt into them. “Thank you for handling the wildlife,” she says, sweetly. “Let’s... let’s find a place where we can sit and consider our hunting strategies.”

You lead her over to an abandoned restaurant that once advertised American Frontier Foods, entering first and scanning it for traps. From there, it’s easy enough to help her up the stairs to the outdoor eating area, where threadbare umbrellas still offer some shade from the sun.

“I wish we’d brought a Lynx,” she says, crumpling into a metal chair. “I shouldn’t expect you to do the tracking, even if you are a native. You don’t have the nose for it.”

She reaches out and boops you right on the veiled nose with a gentle giggle. “Even if you are my precious little [i]lamassie![/i] Would you like to use your sniffer to find treats for Lady, hmmm?” There’s so much affection in her voice, even if it is innocently condescending.