Use Your Words!

ashe I've got a jet black heart And there's a hurricane underneath it it Ashe walked fluidly beside the pair, her eyes flickering more and more to the spire as they approached it. Archebold was an imposing presence to her senses, but she could still see that grotesque face screeching at her from the cage of her lightning, Ronin's blood dripping from it's teeth. She lost track of the conversation as she let her gaze linger on that terrible black spike jutting from the earth. That demon was there, and Cel wanted to talk to it. The shewolf caught movement from the corner of her eye, and she returned her eyes to Archebold as he moved to walk beside her. Her breath slowed, every muscle coiling as she turned to look up at him, listen to him with as blank of an expression as she could muster. Anxiety clawed in her chest - how did he know Master was dead? No one had known who ripped the man’s chest open, took his heart from his chest, no one but the people she’d told. She listened in silence with a thudding heart, and her fingers feathered into fists. If he knew her Master was dead, why would he assume she needed anything more from him? She would have been happy to distance herself from the bloodfiend.. What did he want with her? Her Master had killed Jasper, and she had killed him that was the end - ”Your heart beats with the rhythm of someone at death's door. Would hate to see you indulge in death with that one question left unanswered.” Ashe’s step faltered, her heart stalled, and her jaw clenched in all the same moment. She fell behind for only a second before she picked up her pace again, trying to ignore that dull roar building in the back of her head. Death’s door. She had nearly tried it once already. She had started into the vicious maw of the underground, waiting to swallow her whole. How long before she couldn’t ignore it again? She was one acted upon impulse away from… what, exactly? Could she do such a thing to her family? Fuck you and your diplomacy, Ashe wanted to snarl at the bloodfiend, but one glance at him as her biting her tongue. She didn’t dare. Maybe her magic could defend her against him, but maybe it wouldn’t… but she knew the power of bloodfiends. Ashe breathed through the tightness coiling in her limbs. ”Don't what closure you think you can give me," she ground out. "We’ll talk when we get away alive, Archie,” She hated herself for it. Hated herself for even considering what he was saying. He had only ever spoken to her when it suited him. She had found Jasper’s killer - she didn’t need validation from a bloodfiend that never wanted to help her in the first place. She resisted the urge to slip into her furs, glancing warily Archebold, then to Celosia. ”You’re ready to fucking run from this thing, right Cel?” Ashe asked around the male between them. It wasn’t the first time she asked the fire-haired woman that, but she was intent on driving the point home: the spire demon was no friendly creature to speak with.