Round 19

Jeane settles into a leather armchair with a grace that belies her inner disquiet—let Halie think she has the upper hand for now if it amuses her. The entity behind her pulses faster with each passing second, its hunger an insistent drumbeat against her will. This little cleric thinks herself clever—I can see it in the set of her jaw despite the fear that bleeds through every word. She imagines she can manipulate me somehow? Use this... thing as leverage?

Abby watches the exchange with wide brown eyes, her small frame tensing visibly at the undercurrent of threat in Jeane's casual posture. The entity's pulsing seems to match the rapid rise and fall of her chest—her breathing quickens in sync with its hunger. I don't belong here, she thinks desperately, this isn't my world. These people—the things they do—they're beyond anything I ever imagined.

Halie stands frozen for a moment, the sorcerer’s words hanging heavy between them like a physical thing. The entity behind her pulses faster now, its hunger made visible by the way its tendrils writhe across the glass surface. This is madness—all of it. The fact that I’m even considering her offer to "help" with this situation makes me want to scream at my own stupidity. But then Silra’s words echo in my mind—“I’ll help you.” Could she really mean it? Or am I just too desperate for human connection to see the obvious trap?