[This is convincing patter that he's heard before--different words, same tone, same rush to justify and twist Myr's native trust. Panic's begun to flutter in his pulse and put a sheen of cold sweat on the skin beneath his fur. notagainnotagainnotagain--
There isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now, the Naga says, and Myr snarls,] Don't. Start.
Leave.
[This may be something he'll regret later, but at least his mind will be his own to regret it with.]
no subject
There isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now, the Naga says, and Myr snarls,] Don't. Start.
Leave.
[This may be something he'll regret later, but at least his mind will be his own to regret it with.]