She curls through the mist, slipping down the rocks and quarrys so easily that she appears to float, even in her excessively pregnant state. By the looks of it, the children are due any hour now -- but for Leera, birth is not something that inhibits her. It's easy and natural and it is merely aiding souls onto this earth. So, instead of worrying about the labor pains, she scouts the lands. Regardless of Erövrare's idiotic rules, she's intent on leaving a building her own kingdom; kingdoms are only as strong as the land they're built upon.
This place will not do. The wolfess sneers once, eyes disregarding it, but there's a drifting voice that piques her interest and she floats nearer. Two blazing blue moons dance before her, fixed above a smile, but the ghoulish riddles do not amuse her. "Listen closely, you say. And to what? More nonsense?" Leera had heard the shadow-black woman's rhyming earlier. "Where I'm from, if someone spoke such strangeness they'd have their tongue cut out. Do you fancy your tongue, my dear?" Not that she'll cut it out. Perhaps she's just teasing the spider before she makes her leave. It always feels good to be a bit bitter.
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
