Sleepy Fox Hollow What do you want from me?

A fly buzzed near. Her teeth snapped out to catch the pest, the sound coming to an abrupt halt as the wings fluttered from her teeth to become lost amongst the bloodied blades of grass. There was little emotion behined the glassed carmine as she looked to the other, ears tipping forward the slightest bit to catch her words.

You interrupted nothing. The rasp was low, but perhaps audible. Atropos made no effort to increase her volume, perhaps entirely unable to make such a change in her voice anymore. Truthfully, the scarified monster spoke so little that such an occurence had never presented itself.

Come. A rare invitation made to the stranger, beckoning her close with a serpentine tongue.