<strong>Lilith Wynne, Human Infernal Mistress</strong><br/><br/>With Dalen's joke of feeling naked reaching her ears, Lilith stopped digging for a moment, her face and eyes slowly turning to look at him with what could only be disbelief at the 'humor' on display before her.<strong>"How fortunate for you, my whips are further down..."</strong>she comments idly as she pulls once more at the sand to find her own skull. Pulling it free from the sand she lifts it up to the moonlight, gazing into her own dead eyes. Void of flesh or stains she strokes the skull's cheek, unflinching in staring death, her own mortality, in the face. It was an odd sensation, looking at your own death. She would save her bones... not truly knowing why in the moment it seemed so important to her... although the presence of a witch of Lloth on the island on which she was buried likely had something to do with it.<br/><br/><strong>"Humorous as it may be, this is not the first time I've stared myself in the face."</strong>she comments idly as she returns to the sand. The comment from the witch, of working together and their current task being related did not fall upon deaf ears however. Unfortunately her abilities were ill-suited to moving earth, but cleaning things she could do... not that she was going to offer that to the others just yet. She would need to establish herself as their leader... if they were to destroy Blackbeard they would need a ship, and a crew... but most importantly... a captain.<br/><br/>With that thought in her head she resumed pulling away at the sand around her bones. There was a chest to be pulled, but she wasn't aiming simply for it. Likely her body itself was wrapped in her Mistress' attire, and that meant more to her than anything else. She wasn't going to leave anything behind however, so worked with a slow but intentful pace.