a promise in a mouth of savage teeth

WESSEX after all is said and done you're just a carnivore let you in and drink my blood you're nothing but a monster The Fangs at Deepfrost would be difficult to navigate - a perfect time to search, if there ever was one. But Eirachi’s twisted words pull a slight frown from Wessex and she asks more. “Which path to the mage glass will be easiest?” Given the choice between others or cannibals, she'd choose the cannibals. They at least are human. For that’s what she took it to mean, that there are other things in the Fangs that aren’t cannibals. Dragons, for one. That fell expedition had not been hidden from the rest of them. It seems she is full of questions, as Eirachi talks about her kin and Wessex wonders which season it could be - and how they could possibly suffer. “Ah. A rescue of sorts.” For she imagines that if a god could get out of it themselves, they would. No need for demigods or assistance - though why the Eirachi doesn't go herself is also questionable. “And in return?” What can the Eirachi give her, if she delivers her kin, more or less safe and sound, from its suffering?