don't even think about it

Nero arrived, his expression one of boredom. Without word, he scooped the unconscious wolf up, meandered along and dropped her into the hole. The arctic giant informed her that her monsters weren't scary and Scylla frowned. "They're my artistic outlet. I'd like to see you do any better." The slate fae sulked momentarily, internally pouting. She was proud of her creations. Nero just didn't know what he was talking about.

Scylla lay on the edge of the pit, looking down over the edge. She'd tossed some glowing lichen down there so there was a faint greenish glow. The pale brutes voice questioned her and the small fae scoffed lightly. "Before we can question her and figure out where she came from? Before we know if there are more coming? Information, darling Nero. She's alive because I want information." Maybe his skull was thicker than she thought.

Picking up a little pebble, Scylla tossed it down the hole, tinking the unconscious woman in the shoulder, the neck, the head. "Time to wake up, darling," she purred in low, sing-song tones, her voice echoing as it bounced down the hole towards Kaija.

"Scylla"