"We're all pawns, but at least most of us didn't decide to crown ourselves queen," Arialla countered. She wasn't exactly interested in arguing the merits of Mort's realm -- in truth, she wasn't interested in playing fair at all. A rhetorician would have winced at her speech: her blatant appeals to emotion, her fallacious logic, her choice to ignore anything she couldn't answer. "What right does the Voice have to even call herself a goddess? Everything she's built, she's stolen and twisted."
Arialla's head swiveled towards Nate as he spoke, and a vicious light came into her eyes. "You want to talk about random attacks, you want to talk about scars -- where do you think I got this?"
She pulled back her collar to reveal the ugly gash on her throat, standing out whitish-pink against her tan skin.
"Forgive me for wanting to live in a Caido without the beasts who attacked me in the night."
please don't take my sunshine away
