Cerulean Cape Riverboat, wheelbarrow, wildflower and barley

The girl nodded thoughtfully, though in truth it didn't sound very efficient to her. Shame was... messy, pathetic, something that took a lifetime to cultivate and could be crumbled in an instant. Fear, though — fear was quicker. More reliable. A man who feared for his life often performed better at all tasks than a man who didn't.

She hummed, letting her thoughts simmer for a moment. What would the right girl look like? She wondered aloud. A dangerous question, perhaps, if only because it betrayed her interest. But why not? A woman who already knew how to wield shame as a weapon could easily learn the sorts of cruel games Storm liked to play. Perhaps it would be fun to teach her.