The Bones of What Was

Once they were both seated, the woman introduced herself. Scylla smiled, mismatched eyes lifting. "Good to meet you, Anthea," The smaller fae replied in kind. When the horror show in the center of the island was mention, the larger fae agreed to steer clear. That was for the best. Scylla knew her scent would be all over everything, not that she tried to hide it. What was the point? She wasn't ashamed of her actions, though she had to put on a mask when in front of others simply because they wouldn't understand.

Anthea asked if she knew of this area and Scylla chuckled softly. "Oh yes. My father ruled these lands. This is home, in a sense." Dual-toned eyes cast about the area as though she was remembering. "Abandoned and empty now. Just passing through for the sake of curiosity." She had been curious to see if any cur had swooped in to pick up Fenmyre's spoils. Thankfully no one had.

As the other woman spoke of 'washing up,' Scylla's brow rose. "You're lucky to be alive." With a push of her pink nose, the striped fae motioned in the direction of The Hallows. "You know of The Hallows, I'm sure. My father and Artorias were allies and fast friends." The fae's ears then perked, allowing Anthea to respond if she wished.

"Scylla Klein"