The sheep-bear folded her arms, and turned to look at the ever-changing wall of news about the incident. “What I want to do, is go investigate. Gather evidence. It must be there. The country’s paying attention for once, and if we can leak proof that it was the Prairie League’s fault, the PHL’s fault, that those cadets are dead, maybe it’ll – maybe it’ll shock Canadians into wanting to abolish programs like that. Maybe other kids with superpowers could have a better childhood than I did.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for a moment before turning back to the lamia base commander to hear her answer.
There was a long, drawn-out silence. Mistress Celia’s expression was unreadable, as she tasted the air thoughtfully with tiny fwips of her forked tongue. Eventually, the uncannily-alien snake woman spoke.
“Approved.”
(An excerpt from Snowflake, Chapter 4, coming this Monday; illustration by @distressedegg, of course, doing killer work as ever!)