Yara's eyes flickered with a mixture of enjoyment and defiance as she caught the spark of amusement in Basilisk's eyes. Despite the gravity of her situation, she found a strange satisfaction in his reaction. If she could make him laugh, even in this twisted scenario, it was a small victory.
She smirked, letting a playful glint enter her sun-yellow eyes. "Store me on a shelf, huh? As long as it's a high shelf with a good view, I might not mind," she retorted, her tone light and teasing. "But do you really think you can handle having me that close all the time? I might just sing all day and night. Is that not what a songbird does?"
Yara stepped a bit closer, her movements graceful despite the tension in her muscles. "Though, I must say, your choice of accommodations isn't all bad. It's cozy in a rugged, mountain-cave sort of way. And it's nice it will be dry, at least. I was expecting harsher punishment."
She glanced around the den again, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "I suppose I should be grateful for the fresh air and cleanliness. After all, it's the little things that count when you're a prisoner, right?"
Her eyes sparkled with a mix of humor and challenge as she looked back at Basilisk. "But seriously, I think your wife might be more worried about me charming my way out of here than anything else. I have a way with words, you know. It's one of my many talents."
Yara let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing lightly off the cave walls. "Are you sure she is going to want me to check on her in the morning?"
