[Waltaquin has never once felt remorse for a death she's caused. She does not even think that's how she feels now. She knows Nona better than anyone now, though, so maybe it is. She feels something. Hunger, maybe. Loneliness.]

I thought she was like me. [It's probably impossible not to draw the comparison between the girl and Waltaquin from the memory shared with Psyche, alone and containing some great unleashable curse.]

... Death is the fuel for necromancy. [And it didn't do anything for her, even if they can parade around Merlin's connections as fuel. It stings.] I thought even if I had just a little more sorcery at my disposal, I could at least try to do something!

[Coeurls do not change their pelts, and they do not do well caged.]