Dog-Head (labored breathing … throbbing heart … eyes clenched shut … muted voice): ... you promised never to speak of it ...
Clever (intense childish curiosity): How were you cut? What blade did the surgeon use? Did you faint, or did you stay conscious to pain? And who owns that man's body on whom your head is fixed?
Vixen: Hush, hush. Hunter is right. Speak not of what others have done or left undone. Speak only of your Task, Missy. The Task appointed for you.
Clever (astonished, flattered): Why me?
Vixen (not answering the question): You see, Missy, all these Experiments, mine and the Alchymist’s, resulted in a perpetual chase. Hunter and Hunted. Round and round. Without resolution, without deliverance. Our Hunt unbalanced the Wide World.