Silvertip Mountain and it’s sad to know there’s no honest way out

the threadbare creature spoke, and at once asperas's anger was swept away as if carried on a breeze. intrigue rushed into the empty space like water filling holes in the sand. hackles settled, expression falling into neutrality. no, the voidsent returned evenly, and drew closer, into the prisoner's personal space — not without regard to the offense this might cause, but instead in pointed, malicious observation of it. the ugly little thing was in no position to deny asperas, after all, and she wanted that to be unquestionably clear.