ProfetessaOscura
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Vespyr and the room sighed again. “You should sleep. There is food in the pack at the back of the room if you need it. We will travel at sunrise, in few enough hours.”
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“No.” The word was simple, and probably frustratingly firm.
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Vespyr shrugged. "It sounds like you can multitask."
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Vespyr sighed, and the room sighed with her in a terrifyingly strange experience. "It cannot be more important than her Majesty's command. If it was, I would have been told to assist you on your task before delivering you home." Vespyr swayed its head hypnotically. "Were you to kill someone?"
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Vespyr was beginning to lose that sense of amusement. This woman was being very argumentative, especially in the face of this new command. "I do not question my Queen. You may question her when you meet with her. I would not recommend it."
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Vespyr remained silent for a moment of contemplation. "Perhaps you will," Vespyr said, without much real enthusiasm, "After your rendezvous with her Majesty."
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Vespyr lowered its head to its chest silently, not about to debate. It had been told to expect reluctance and even resistance. Although it appeared relaxed, Vespyr was prepared if an attack came.
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"Clearly, the situation and her desires have changed," Vespyr drawled. "I will fulfill my task. I apologize for the inconvenience."
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Goodness... There was certainly some grammatical lesson to be launched about proper nouns and titles, but Vespyr only grew more frustrated. "The Pure Queen," it elaborated firmly, certain that the adjective was enough to specify enough.
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Vespyr hesitated. It only knew of one queen. Were there more? It wasn't certain. It shrugged. "I mean my Queen."
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Was she certain she wasn't under the influence of a concussion. Vespyr turned its head to Cruz, as if to double check that he wasn't concerned. "To her Majesty, of course." Vespyr had mentioned the Queen once before, she was certain. Did... Did Trace know who the Queen was? Vespyr wished it had learned a little bit more about the target other than the face and the name.
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Vespyr tilted its head at Trace. Was this the angsty teenage behavior that people spoke about? It wasn't quite sure why the person seemed so upset. She wasn't dead. She wasn't harmed. She was in a safe, dry place, and Vespyr had even let her keep her... ally. Ally, not pet. "I want nothing from you. I have been sent to retrieve you," it said again.
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"Logically, you can then cope with surviving under duress," Vespyr retorted. It was... fun to engage with someone longer than a few moments. Usually, Vespyr had killed most people by now.
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Goodness, how oblivious could these two be? "Her Majesty has pulled me from my post to fetch you. As I have saved your life, it naturally would have belonged to me anyways." No, that wasn't the right logical conclusion. It sounded right, but... "I believe it is a debt that humans often reference in similar situations?" Anyways, all of Vespyr's possessions belonged to the Queen anyway. Logically, the reasoning seemed sound.
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"I have been sent to retrieve you," Vespyr stated, voice strained, as if that was explanation enough, as if Trace should know what that meant.
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Vespyr tilted its head, wondering why the girl hadn't responded. Clearly, she'd heard. Did she have a concussion? Did she not understand? "You should heal your companion again," Vespyr advised. "It seems she must be facing some brain trauma." Vespyr didn't mean to sass the girl. But it wasn't much more than pragmatic.
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Vespyr stood by the door, bemused. It looked at both of them from behind its opaque white mask. If only there were popcorn. Vespyr had learned from others that it was customary to eat the snack while watching something amusing. It would have been a unique experience, because the girl immediately assuming that she could walk out and march back to where she'd literally gotten her guts ground into the gravel to try a second time... that was hilarious. It might have offered question on who Janice was. It hadn't been filled in on much about the girl she was supposed to bring back. Unfortunately, bringing back people alive often had complications of an annoying nature. It doubted that the Queen would be particularly happy about the hanger-on that Vespyr had decided to bring back, the girl's pet. No, that wasn't the right word. Ally? Companion? Those were probably better words for it. The wind spoke for Vespyr, shooting in from the entrance of the cave and swirling around, like a breath in a lung. The eerie keening, shifting voice sounded downright jovial. "How is it you expect to return?"
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<strike>"I am known by many names: Mountain Slayer, Thunder Lion, The Chocolate Axe. But you? You may call me... Tiffany."</strike> It stopped, then turned its head towards Cruz, as if considering slowly, or curious that its captive had actually asked. In all honesty, it wasn't quite sure what name to give. There were those who had called it a ocean monster, others who had called it a mindless beast. There were titles of terror, a wide assortment and variety. Then there was its... old name. It felt too raw, too... too human to let anyone use that name ever again. Vespyr finally settled on one of the more appropriate titles, one with a good deal less of panicked death-throed profanity. "I am often called "Siren" by those I must kill. I bear many titles from those I encounter. It was difficult to choose from among them the name you should use." Fool. Why should Vespyr expect some understanding from these creatures? It wasn't like they wanted the elaboration. In its own way, even thinking of itself as "Vespyr" was too self-centered. If Vespyr's handlers learned that it still clung to its old name, even in thought... well. Vespyr had grown accustomed to blocking out the pain, but it was a damned inconvenience working with a broken body after the fact.
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Vespyr walked toward the entrance, but paused once it was by their side. "You should sleep. Both of you have been injured and expended much energy. If you are hungry, I have a pack of rations at the back of this cave." Noticeably, Vespyr had slung a second pack over its shoulder protectively. "I will keep watch." The voice sounded less dusty, less cracked now that it had been used a little more, and probably because the creature had taken a drink. It seemed to be a high-tenor/low-alto, and didn't really help them determine anything about the creature's identity. Vespyr seemed eager to not be underground, though, taking fast, long strides toward the exit. "Speak freely. I will not repeat your conversations. I am a sword, not an ear." The words were spoken as if they'd been memorized, like a rote oath.
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