Blood of the Ancients

The night in the cold had been a test for the gigantic man. Did his word mean anything to him? Could he be trusted to keep it? Only an idiot would put themselves at the mercy of such a beast without a backup plan or two. The fur lined satchel around Scylla's neck held her blue scaled viper; the snake ready to strike at a moments notice. Additionally, there was a handy little knife in each of the woman's foreleg bracers, both of which were dipped in heavy sedatives that could fell a bull moose in rut. The slate and cream woman wondered if he thought that she was insane. The whole situation was terribly amusing.

After some good stretches, Scylla seated herself on the ice crusted snow, watching with interest as Nero stood and tested both his strength and the skill of her stitches. Stiff and sore, he admitted. Brows lifted slightly and Scylla gave a little shrug. "As is to be expected, but hey! You're alive. You're welcome." He hadn't thanked her, but she made a point to say it anyway just to be a brat.

Nero stood, his golden gaze resting on her before he declared his servitude once more and asked what she wanted of him. The small woman grinned, teeth flashing in the bright light of a snowy morning. "Your strength, your skill," She'd seen him fight and believed that he'd be an asset, "your genes, if you're a good boy." Amusement sparkled in the slate fae's blue and grey eyes. It would be a bit of a task to take one so large into her small frame, but Scylla was no quitter.

"Do you think you can hold to your word? Does it mean anything to you?" Scylla asked outright, a challenge in her words as she held the gaze of the big man. Unless she wanted to ruin the potential partnership between them by poisoning him and dropping him in the pit, she had to know that he could be trusted that much. "There are many benefits to being a member of Obscura, you know."

"Scylla"