clouds rolling in

she's as insufferable as ever, side-stepping his every attempt to de-escalate with that characteristic blend of mockery and audaciousness. Styrmir watches her with wary eyes and a tense stance, every muscle taut with preparation to ensnare, to physically intervene before she becomes too entangled in this to simply back away. "don't," he bites out, though the command is belied by the faint tremble in his voice. he hates it, wishes he was strong enough to take the panic flickering at his awareness and bury it deep, never to resurface. smother it beneath layers of resolve and calm control. "you don't know what you're messing with here, little shadow. or just how ugly this can get." she takes a step back, but he can't bring himself to relax, to let his guard down. not when he's experienced a mere fragment of what she's capable. who's to say what she'll do the moment his back's turned? no, he won't even give her the chance. her mention of his hobby has twisted his stomach up, and it squirms with nausea as he looks upon her, something icy and sickening. he's not...proud of it, but it's necessary work. the kind of work someone like her wouldn't understand.

Styrmir's hand shoots out and makes to grab the girl's chin, lifting her head up as he grips her face. forcing her to look into his eyes, to see the glimmer of darkness there. every word is a breathy promise. "if you insist on staying, you might just find yourself in a similar position to our friend over there." he jerks his head, indicating the bloodied body of the squirrel. "is that what you want, girl? to offer yourself up?" he tilts his head, still watching her face, waiting for the inevitable fear and revulsion. hopefully, his warning will suffice this time, and she'll go running off with her tail between her legs. no one would stick around, not after such an unhinged threat.

"Styrmir Trygg"