Relapse

She had been alone for a while now, the herbs left smoldering were nearly charred all the way through. Though a faint wisp of smoke still fed the faint haze that lingered in the nearly enclosed space of her prison. While still in a horrendous amount of paint, the floral scent of whatever plant matter had been burned was at least somewhat pleasant. In the absence of a guest, she had taken the return to silence as an opportunity to drift back to unconsciousness. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.

The amethyst brute who she had come to hate barreled into the den as if it were on fire. That was an amusing thought. Gently rolling over to face him- careful to not put any additional pressure on her hip- she sleepily watched him frantically search the den. Once he recognized the source of the smoke, his attention turned on her demanding the meaning of it. An amused half-smirk spread across her expression. She had an idea of what he was looking for in an answer, but he didn’t ask it the right way. Instead, she would explain to him what it meant. “Well, dear Sephiran. It's a meditation spell- the herbs being an offering.” She said, clearly gesturing to what he had already seen for himself. It was fun though. Though her sapphire gaze remained fixed to him. “Some brute stopped by and offered to light them for me.” She would get to the part where it had been his alleged uncle soon enough. But of course, maybe they had already encountered one another.

Blinking away the thought, she allowed her grin to brighten a bit. “Wasn’t that nice?”  She prompted, awaiting whatever explosion she had triggered in doing so.

"Speech"