Dragoncrest Cliffs i am all out of pity and gods to please you with

Antumbra is quiet for a long moment after Rosalyn makes her case. She has no weight behind her threats, for two of them will not hurt them in the slightest. Letting her go, however, presents a problem. She licks her lips and glances away, the wind of the ocean rushing up with the tide.

“I will let you leave,” she says, drawing her dark grey gaze back but she makes no move to support it. Instead, she finally sits and then shuffles down into the sand, legs pulled back like springs in case the captive chooses to act. Most of it is for show, at this point. “We can go to the borders now and you can face the winter alone with a broken leg and no sight in one eye,” she starts, quirking a brow to gauge her reaction. “Or, you do one thing for me and I can give you comfort. We will help your leg heal and you can leave when you are ready. Either way, you will get as far from Drageda as you possibly can when this is over. I do not want to see you near here again.” Slowly, as if to emphasize what she means, she drapes one front leg over the other and digs a nail into the sand. Generosity is not something she often gives in this situation, and something tells her she already knows the answer, but either way she will get what she wants.