Now I see fire, inside the mountain

The longer she held him aloft, the more uncomfortable Leshen grew.
 
He squirmed in her grasp until his mild sense of helplessness had melted away to reveal pure desperation, and he began to thrash more and more in an effort to free himself. He felt pitifully weak against the titaness’ firm grip; his frustration mounting as he seemingly made no ground in regaining his autonomy. Regardless, the child goblin was too stubborn to relent.

As Leshen’s most valiant struggling went unheeded, his whining evolved into unsettling howls — his cries reaching up into the holy register of prepubescence in what could only be described as an attempt to deafen his opponent. The look in his blood-ink eyes screamed just as loud: Idiota! What are you doing to me?

It did not matter to him that she could not see his hateful expression.