Neverwinter Forest Piscean

The encounter had made sense until it didn't; until the man had started to speak, and the longer he went on, the less Seastorm could comprehend his intentions. Let me feed you, he said, and she found herself sent into a bit of a tailspin. Such charity was a foreign thing; pity, too, was an unfamiliar sourness on her lips.

Maybe she'd dreamed of something like this, back when she'd been young enough to still want it. Back when it might have made a difference. Here and now she only looked on him with suspicion and a brimming defiance, a growing certainty that he had something to gain from this. Seastorm wasn't sure what it was yet, but she meant to find out.

Alright, Chin lifted, tone sharp as if challenging him to go back on his offer. How could she see anything here but another battle? This method was unfamiliar to her, but a fight was a fight: something simple, something she knew. If she could fight, she could live another day.