Ana & James & Open
Jim was squinting at the corpse while Ana soothed her head, head tipped to the side like he was sizing up a Pollock that just didn't make sense to him.
"Or Caleb. Or me, maybe one of the dragons," he added. "Still doesn't sit right. None of us would do this." It was the same story with the mermaids, they didn't waste meat or make trophies of kills. "So we have a crazy cirque employee, or groupie, trying to frame specific groups. Poorly. Sounds like a party." Jim glowered, hooking his thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans to curb the urge to further prod at the body.