This is an image post. Inspiration for this sketch came from this image.
“Have you had a finer seat?” asked White-Bear-King Valemon.
“I have not,” said Megara, and took a bone from out his thigh.
“Have you seen as far?” asked White-Bear-King Valemon.
“I have not,” said Alecto, and took his voice from out his throat.
“Have you ever ridden as fast?” rasped White-Bear-King Valemon.
“I have not,” said Tisiphone, and took his heart from out his chest.
A wreath of gold and cunningly wrought had White-Bear-King Valemon, and this he wore about his neck. Tisiphone rode upon his shoulders and toyed with its leaves, delighting in the play of soft light upon her hands. Boneless, voiceless, heartless, White-Bear-King Valemon ran on, bearing the youngest of three to his castle.
By night he came to her clothed in the flesh of a man, and had no name. Her teeth were sharp in the hollow of his neck, her venom lashed him to a fury of love. After a year and a day she woke and White-Bear-King Valemon was cold beside her, and all the castle was empty. She drove her nails beneath his shining coat and peeled his skin like an orange; the walk home was long, and winter was cruel.