Sugared Prowler

THE SUGARED LIE

When the starving Marches prayed for a harvest-festival god, the Sugared Lie answered in exactly the shape they begged. Its Prowlers are the leftovers of that answer — candied beasts circling the confection halls, glaze cracking over meat that was never meat. They smell of feast-day mornings. That is the trap. Everything in the Sugared Lie was built from someone's hunger.