Sunspire Mountains all the butterflies have turned to vultures in my stomach

she was perceptive to the nuances of emotion that washed over her dim shadow, the coldness that gripped him. esmé braced up with sudden intrigue. a little touchy about this subject, she noted. the woman listened to his recounting of the waylay upon him, feigning expressions of deep sympathy that she did not feel when appropriate, and as his ophidian eyes related some impishness, she belled cavity-sweet laughter in like manner.

bah. she'd grown bored of the lack of chaos lately, anyway.

"oh you did, did you? right on the tree? impressive," she said with a gasp, sashaying towards him with the very deliberate mincing of her slender legs. "and then they so crudely attacked you! how humiliating ..." she cooed, making a moue and brushing lightly against his shoulder to sit beside him. lowered her voice a bit, "that would make me so ... mad! i'd want to do it again just to spite them," she glanced sidelong, heaving an affected huff whilst quietly eying him. "it's just so, mmm, unrighteous. don't you think?" esmé suggested as her tail moved to gently sweep against his leg.