Sunset Valley Pǎnakär

Of course, it was a lie. But that didn’t matter.
Is this the apology he wished to give? She reels her chin. She can hear his revulsion. The lingering sentiment in his voice mocks her. It does nothing to reassure Ayovi; it doesn’t make him any less of a danger. A cold pit opens in her stomach.
Yet Skorpa on the hill makes her feel untouchable, filled with teeth and power. She had scarcely remembered what that was like.
The pit bubbles, small tendrils of transparent flames lick past her teeth. “I did. I enjoyed him. In fact, I begged for more of him.”
She hadn’t thought it through, and she didn’t care to. Ayovi wanted to strike Faust with the inanity of his own words.