Blackfeather Woods searching every room, I am not free

Okay, she could do this. What did she do when people like this came around the Monkshood?

Well, generally she ran like hell but that wasn’t an option, was it? The woman knew the woods, she’d be hunted for sport, and Nephele wasn’t about that life. Deep breaths, old girl, and appease.

She slapped on a smile, tried not to look so nervous, and rapidly nodded.

Oh yes, very dead, six feet under in fact! Her voice came out high pitched, a nervous trill to it that would almost be comparable to the shriek of a violin played very very badly.

Nevermind she didn’t know a Damien. Sorry, whoever the hell you were, but you were her only hope.

Buried him myself! Yep!