Greatwater Lake she was afraid of dreadful prophecies

t'was my pleasure :)

urias. scylla. she returned, opting to leave out the rest for as long as she could. if she must, she would, but disclosing an identity that tied her to many who were largely distrusted or even loathed was something scylla was hesitant to do. no matter how far from her roots she came.

don't be so goddamn stubborn.

the words light a slow burning flame that boils her blood; a phrase she took to be unjustly condescending. i do not need you to tell me what to do. narrowed brow and a venomous hiss retaliated, snapping half-heartedly at the man’s shoulder. she is nothing if not strong-willed. but the girl cannot afford to abandon his supports, and continues to rest a portion of her weight upon his frame. do not bite the hand that feeds you, scylla -- she checks herself. 

her naturally levelled head realigns itself and focuses, bright yellow. the marigold flower is bright yellow. yet if it was not to be found, another issue presented itself. the dark woods -- just beyond the lake -- it would likely have all that i need if there is none here. there is a slight tinge of anxiousness riddled within her tone, but she is careful to mask it with a stoic expression. to have to return there after so long… it was preferable not to.