Otter Creek i'd rather you did not turn your skunk bath into a giant cocktail

berúthiel‘s face twisted in disgust at the boy’s amused laughter. she had known him for a few seconds and even she could tell there was something sickly with his mind. she let out a grumble, attention turning to rest on the raven furred wench. a snarl slithered from her jaws, lips pulling back to reveal stained teeth in a fashionable warning. if the boy’s ignorance to her questions wasn’t enough to convince her to leave, then perhaps berúthiel could persuade her through some other means. claws dug into the ground while her muscles tensed, the pace of her heart beat quickening with every passing moment. and just when the cobra was about to strike it’s prey, the screech of a child drew her attention back towards the spiderlings. 

her head snapped in the direction of the boy’s voice, eyes landing on the dwarf child. the disgust upon her face couldn’t be hidden and her stomach turned at the sight of him. what the hell was wrong with him? she gaged, a bit a vomit coming up along with it. she was dazed for a moment and couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would let such a hideously deformed child live. and then out of nowhere something snapped in that corrupted head of hers. she turned her body to face the child, eyes wild with bloodlust. “what?” she hissed, moving to take a few steps in his direction. a sinister smile began to tug at the edge of her lips while berúthiel ultimately said screw you to the last of her sanity. she quickened her advance upon the children and should they be foolish enough to remain in their position rather than retreat into the safety of their forest, the ravaged kementári would attempt to lock her jaws around one of them with the intent to end their young life. because honestly, the fresh flesh of a child sounded a whole lot more appealing than that of a rotting head.