“That’s a very dangerous thing to promise to a cad like myself, darlin’,” he smirked. “Don’t make such promises to just anyone, savvy? You’ll end up in a whole heap of trouble, and I won’t be there to pull you out.”<br/><br/>The tip of Alverstone rested against the metal of the muzzle-collar, and for a moment it seemed like nothing was going to happen. Then the crystalline tip started to sink into the meta, little by little, like a knife sinking into butter. Wyl did his best to be careful, to not cut too deep, but it was difficult to control, especially without any real light to help him see what he was doing, and he bit his lip in concentration.<br/><br/>“Right. Start prayin’ to whatever god you believe in, darlin’, here we go.” He put a hand on the bag-o-bones’ shoulder to help keep him steady, and started to drag the Alverstone down.<br/><br/>It was slow going. The collar was damned big, and he had to keep pushing the rags that passed as clothing out of the way. The spells woven into the metal hindered him, almost pushing the dagger’s tip out of the metal more than once. But he only cursed and pushed it back in because it was working. The metal was giving in.<br/><br/>Wyl started at the top, cutting from the top of the neck right underneath the ear, to the left and ending on the shoulder. Once the first cut was done he attempted to remove the collar, but had to give up. “We’ll have to cut at least another line, darlin’, this thing just ain’t movin’ otherwise. Hold still for just a little bit more.”<br/><br/>Checking the Alverstone briefly to make sure that there were no notches – the dagger still looked like it had never been used – Wyl moved to the other side. He put the tip to the metal right underneath the other ear, and started cutting.