Deepwood Weald rising

Belharra was off with a cackle, as soon as she heard what she wanted. Asmodeus delivered a fine deadpan reply, and it warmed her frosty heart.

Off she went, leaving the man to inspect his remaining digits and wonder how many days were left before they departed too.

She came back within the hour with rough fare. A mealy looking rabbit. A tormented grouse. "Slim pickin's, but I imagine a freeloadin' savant such as yeself can't complain." She moved both towards Asmodeus, her expression stonily serious: "now pick one and quit yer gripin', unless ye want me to snack on your remaining toesies."

Another laugh gurgled in the rough wolf's throat as she grabbed whatever Asmodeus hadn't and dug in.