She ... remains an old woman. Not that she needs to turn into anything else. There's an oppressiveness to her being. A sense of presence, like a massive thunderstorm on the horizon approaching. An act of nature that cannot be fought, only endured. She is an old woman shorter than Davrin - shorter than Lucanis thanks to being stooped with age, she has a cane, but she's still dressed in the Crow blacks. She still reads as overt threat.
"The demon you're protecting!" the old woman, Caterina, says with a sneer. Judgemental. The sense of disappointment almost choking with the oppressiveness. Outside of the high windows in the library, water, and ocean, more shadows move. The bookcases start leaking. Sea water, mostly.
Some blood.
"I sent Rook to save my grandson and they bring back an abomination."
"Rejection and relief. Tenderness and terror. Fear of disappointment. The hurt comes either way, but if you deserve it, it hurts less," Spite hissed behind Davrin.
Davrin you're incredible
"The demon you're protecting!" the old woman, Caterina, says with a sneer. Judgemental. The sense of disappointment almost choking with the oppressiveness. Outside of the high windows in the library, water, and ocean, more shadows move. The bookcases start leaking. Sea water, mostly.
Some blood.
"I sent Rook to save my grandson and they bring back an abomination."
"Rejection and relief. Tenderness and terror. Fear of disappointment. The hurt comes either way, but if you deserve it, it hurts less," Spite hissed behind Davrin.