Ankyra Sound love won through my defeat

the siren had been trawling a lengthy arm of kelp when a flurry of chai-cream rose to her vision. setting aside the band of stark-green vegetation, caiaphas took in the news: rosalyn, alive -- somehow.

alongside her eurycrates bristles, settling his words with a conviction that she believed the captive woman would have been proud of -- and while she too is stoked by a burning fire, she is much less impulsive.

storming the thorny keep of drageda is appealing - when they were armed with ready fangs and claws. yet they are a bedraggled band of rogues, assembled together by chance: some young, some old. marching in for rosalyn would end with banner bloodshed - mostly their own.

"if they have her captive, it means they think she is useful." the sylph considered. "if we go now -- so soon after you heard her -- they will likely be ready. it would be walking into the jaws of a snake. could you tell at all from what direction she called?"