<div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v245/digitalpirana/sithesis_zps337570f4.jpg)</div><br/>He remains beyond her reach, stalking back into the embrace of the shadows like a coyote. A desolate silence follows, leaving her to flounder in her own despair, reintroducing her to the isolation she’s come to know so well while, hung out there over the abyss. When his voice returns she doesn’t hear it, but rather senses it dripping into her consciousness.<br/><br/><br/><em>"Her abandonment will see you to her arms, eventually... "</em><br/><br/><br/>There is a flicker of pale flesh as if he has to cut his way free, before the barbarian death-witch comes wading out of the oily shadows. He crouches with an unnatural fluidity, getting to low look her in the eye.<br/><br/><br/><em>“But she won’t even let you die quickly.... I hope she’s worth the suffering. I won’t let you die either. I can end your suffering.  Are you cold, Maeryn? I will bring fire to this place. Do you wish to see the blood of your guards pouring like rivers into the abyss? Do the bindings hurt your wrists more and more every day?”</em><br/><br/><br/>He’d drawn his blade, and now it rasps across the earth.<br/><br/><br/><em>“Ask me what you would ask of Her. And I will answer.”</em><br/>