Blackfeather Woods mine are long and sharp, my Lord As long and sharp as yours

She was tired of this already. Maegi didn't want to wound the man. She wouldn't be satisfied by teeth into flesh, the welling of fresh blood. She wanted him to suffer, wanted him to rot from the inside out. A slow, cryptic death, like Astara had almost suffered from the deadly pink. Perishing by fire was what he wanted; it was much too good for him.

Moonshadow spit acid at Skullchaser, but she remained cold, her stare boring into his scarred visage. He stepped forward, and she did, too, coming to stand head-to-head with the dark woman. She felt his hot breath on her face, smelled the horrid, evil stink of it.

Leave, or you will pay, Maegi repeated, her voice even quieter than before.