Beggars can't be choosers

The plans that her father and Manea had laid were brushed under the carpet so to speak. Saracyn didn't want her and Avacyn didn't want Albion. It was rather comical as they would have been wedding above their station. Not that she didn't like Manea and Alastor, but they didn't compare to a line of emperors and empresses. Not being with Saracyn was just fine with Scylla, but Albion being rejected... It rubbed her the wrong way. Her pale sibling was perfect. He was dedicated and steadfast and caring. Albion had been willing to go along with the betrothal and had been more than a little upset when it had been severed. It took her a while, but Scylla eventually let it go. Albion was too good for Avacyn anyway.

The blue and cream fae had just finished a rather delicate project. She had reconstructed the bones of a snake and mixed them wit the skeleton of a cat. The sight was nightmarish and she loved it. Once the finishing touches had been put on and she was satisfied, Scylla decided to reward herself with a little gambol around the lake. Maybe she would find something else to murder. One could never have enough cadavers.

While resting upon one of the many large rocks surrounding the lake, a call rang out. A call for her, specifically. Mismatched eyes looked across the lake and landed on the form of Saracyn. What in the hell could he possibly want with her?"Helloooooooo..." the woman called out, one dexterous paw waving a few times in the air. If he wanted her, he'd have to come get her. She was far too comfortable to give up her place just yet.

"Scylla"