Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

This new landscape was unfamiliar, but he wasn't particularly concerned about its dangers. The lanky yearling never was, honestly. With Butcher perched between his oversized ears he was able to take some guidance about where to put his feet, but he was more concerned with drinking in the stench of the place. Burning, acrid stink and the underlying sweetness of rot. There was nothing like it that he'd ever encountered, so he was taking the time to savour it. Without the benefit of his sense of smell to help guide him, the wraith was forced to rely more on his hearing. The pads of his paws swept lightly over the ground before he placed them down, and he tipped and tilted his skull to broaden his awareness of the soundscape that formed around him. The tar pits were fascinating, the bubbling of gasses coming up through the molten goo was.. well, he could probably listen to that for hours.

A sharp beak jabbed into the sensitive flesh between his brows, and he yelped softly. "Rude!" he sniped at the devious shrike, shaking his head to banish the lingering pain. The faint sounds of movement in his immediate vicinity became more clear now that he was forced to focus on them. Was this one of the strange prisoners? He didn't get why the leader was keeping slaves, but he didn't care enough to question it. Let her do what she wanted, he wasn't going to bother himself with trivial bullshit. "Hello, hello?" he crooned in that eerie singsong, lilting vocals light and airy as he called out. If it was one of the slaves, they might not be keen to have one of the free roaming members invading on their day. He'd have to go around, and that would be very boring.