I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
There is a sharp glee at having successfully taken the creature off guard, but she doesn’t allow it to show in her face. No sense in giving up the game so soon after all. Sharp eyes, still concealed by illusion into a cool blue color, flick down to the art pad and utensil in the being’s hands. “What is it you are recording?” She doesn’t actually care. A creation of The Voice would never have an appreciation for the nature around them that Nephele would ever care to respect or acknowledge. What it allows her is the easy opportunity to move closer, feigning interest in the sketches on the paper.
Pausing, she turns her eyes as the question is turned back against her. “Investigating. I am a scientist, and I am testing the abilities of a strange item I have found.” She is incapable of lying, but the Fae are very skilled in the art of subversion and half-truths.
Pausing, she turns her eyes as the question is turned back against her. “Investigating. I am a scientist, and I am testing the abilities of a strange item I have found.” She is incapable of lying, but the Fae are very skilled in the art of subversion and half-truths.
I can give you death with the look upon my face
