in tenebris est veritas.
The blade jerks away from its fruitless quarry and is directed immediately toward the newcomer, shaking gently in a surprised, pale-knuckled grip. She has no companion, no duty, no one to care whether she lives or dies; the dagger that glints in the irregular magma glow might reveal that lonely desperation– or perhaps simply the wary distrust it was meant to convey.
Despite her alien appearance, a small, human sniffling noise can be heard from behind the chipped teeth of the stag skull mask. It bobs gently as she readjusts her stance, keeping an eye on the man and the animal at his side as she rises to her height from where she had been crouching.
“Why not?” She asks carefully, briefly averting the dagger’s point on a bending arm. The motion is hesitant, like she is only just beginning to understand how foolish her suspicions might be. She clears her throat, the ordinary noise made uncanny by the strange pretense that surrounds it. “Are they dangerous? Sacred?”
Despite her alien appearance, a small, human sniffling noise can be heard from behind the chipped teeth of the stag skull mask. It bobs gently as she readjusts her stance, keeping an eye on the man and the animal at his side as she rises to her height from where she had been crouching.
“Why not?” She asks carefully, briefly averting the dagger’s point on a bending arm. The motion is hesitant, like she is only just beginning to understand how foolish her suspicions might be. She clears her throat, the ordinary noise made uncanny by the strange pretense that surrounds it. “Are they dangerous? Sacred?”
