I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
The unwelcoming tone does not dissuade the scientist. She could care less as to the status of her acceptance in a given conversation, especially with someone whose back is bare and wingless. But as the woman turns, and her eyes alight upon the rags Nephele wears, so too do the Fae’s find the fangs in the woman’s mouth as she speaks. Her own curls in immediate, fierce disgust, hatred deeply sowed in the lines of her pretty face.
“One could say the same of other things - at least the flower is natural unlike you,” she spits like a venomous snake, eyes narrow slits of amber. The cloth around her flutters as she pulls it to her chest, possessive. “Somewhere you can never acquire them,” is pointedly lobbed back, unaware of the history the Ascended woman has with Ludo. Though if she had, she likely would have been even crueler in her words, so perhaps it’s for the best.
“One could say the same of other things - at least the flower is natural unlike you,” she spits like a venomous snake, eyes narrow slits of amber. The cloth around her flutters as she pulls it to her chest, possessive. “Somewhere you can never acquire them,” is pointedly lobbed back, unaware of the history the Ascended woman has with Ludo. Though if she had, she likely would have been even crueler in her words, so perhaps it’s for the best.
I can give you death with the look upon my face
