Redsand Canyon Let that lonely feeling wash away

With his suspicions, the specter took care with his steps upon the sand. Floating around as quietly as naturally possible as he observed her movements with even greater care than his footing. Studying to see if she truly was as blind as she looked. If she was blind, she was good at acting as if she wasn't. But without sight, she was bound to fuck up eventually and make it obvious enough. He was intrigued. A new toy to figure out, to puzzle through and try to understand - maybe even use in some way if he could come up with something. Everyone had use in one way or another.

Oh I can pay. he cooed softly. A lie? Perhaps. It all depended on what kind of demands she had for her "witchcraft" if he was being honest. Being the lazy bastard that he was, he wasn't about to just go out of his way for something that didn't do anything of greater or equal value at the very least. But you must give me examples my dear. His sultry voice continued. For what am I to do with you if your craft does not pay in return? He stops, fire and ice focused on the sandy damsel with a devilish grin - wondering if she could see it and how maliciously it curled around his pointed snout. Ears folded back akin to his father before him; pointed in a pair of pseudo-horn-like protrusions at the right angle. 

The things I'd do to you if you're a fraud. The sweet flirtatious tones turned sour, a toxic hum, and vicious with malevolent intent.