Two Eyes Cenote [m] Adder

Nothing; and then a sound so unsettling she wanted the silence back.

It would hardly be called a laugh, just as the muzzle that thrust towards hers’ would hardly be called wolf. The once-eloquent man is reduced to fits of incoherency. Nothing is familiar in those crystalline eyes, emptied save for a madness, and yet in all her disgust she had to question still if justice was being carried out here.

Pivoting backwards, she forces herself to keep his gaze when every inclination of her body screams in protest. She does not want to look at him! Because she's made him this way. This is her doing!

But would he not deserve such a sentence, if what the woman says is true? Had he not come to Eset and asked her to be an accessory to murder?

Her head pounds, her belly twists. She no longer knew who to trust, and perhaps she never did.

“So you know her," she speaks at last, searching his face for recognition. "Eira. You... you killed her son? You feed from your own kind?” The coy hisses then, remembering with sickness the grief on the mother's face. “Is that why you’re here? Is that the kind of man you are?” Questions dissolve into growls. Growls into shaking breaths.