Phantom Hollow STOP WHINING ABOUT UR TRASH, LET'S GO

In time, Zannah reluctantly obliged to Damien's command; his booming voice had prompted for her to position herself submissively, and for her gaze to avoid his. "I need them," she muttered with evident repugnance, eyeing the heap of her keepsakes. Zannah couldn't comprehend why she needed to give them up—especially when she was capable of handling them.

"They're my stuff," she reiterated harshly, as her nose wrinkled and her lips pulling back to reveal her milk teeth.