Neverwinter Forest I guess I'll just go home.

The man's rebuttal is both a surprise and a slap in the face, as far as Ereshkigal is concerned. She feels it, feels it deep in her bones, and turns wide orbs between the two of them as they speak, rendered speechless for now. There is a question given to her, but Cerulean responds, and she is less trapped and more enraptured by the debate — how will she respond? What is her place in this mess?

She must heal this place. It is clearly one of strife, and she. . . The One can remedy this. She must speak, though.

I can. . .do whatever is needed of me, Ereshkigal says, gazing at Mal. My mother taught me to hunt fairly well, I am experienced with child-rearing, I — Her pointed chin lifts, oh-so subtly, a sincere gleam in her eyes. What is it that you require? she asks, a corner of her wide mouth lifting. It is a smile, but not; more an offer;

And even when Cerulean defends the pair of them, she looks softly upon her friend, flicking her tail along the shoulder beside her. Not yet, says her manner, not yet. There will be a time. . . but not yet. Time enough, yet. For now, it is the time to blend. To assimilate.