Peaches knew better than to leave the room yet. And now that she could see straight, the room was even odder than she thought. The window was intact, including its bright green shutter, for some reason, despite her definitely being flung through it hard enough that she still felt her back aching from breaking the through shutter before. But there wasn’t even a single scratch on that elven green paint. And it was that bright elven green that made plenty of human go jealous since humans hadn’t figured out a way to dye their clothing a fresh healthy green. Peaches...

Roo never expected bones as soft as ivory to greet his hands. In the utter darkness Roo couldn’t tell whose bones they were, or how old they were, but he could still smell Fleur and her strawberry and scream scent, yet these bones in his hands, they were shackled secure to a wall of … freezing cold … stone? The chains rattled loud and crisp, but they were less rattled than he was. His heart raced faster than a panicked stallion. Yet he remained physically still. As if calm. Before a storm. He gulped. Focused himself to focus. On his...

Peaches woke to the same cherry stink as before, except it was a mix of vanilla and cream. Her back pressed against a wet plaster. Like she was some fish girl trophy that fell onto some wooden flimsy floor. Her whole body ached like some jackass had reeled in her, all to tire her out, all in order to captive her alive and valued. Nonono. Her niece suffered that humiliation, but she went Amber Death on that poacher but now, who’d go Amber Death for her? That empty echo echo echo … she had to. For herself. Prove she wasn’t...

When Roo woke, his stomach was hangrier than a troll after an unwanted bath, except he felt grimier than a troll after its daily mud dip. Very cold mud. Especially against his back. His wrists and ankles. And that smell of serpent and furball and filth … Roo was already shivering. So cold. His body didn’t want to move. He was lean and mean yet he ached worse than a fish wacked around on a small boat. And the boat he was on was waving all too jerky. Worse, down … lower … so cold. He wanted to cringe, but...

Peaches wasn’t about to be swallowed whole again. The fetal breath … the slimy hot air … Once in her lives was more than enough – the sharp decline in the roof was more than enough to stumble safely backwards on. The massive splash of water showering down her on – but not touching her – yet. Good. The rumbles close by … mostly thunder now? No time left. Pointing her palm right down the tentacled shark’s throat. She fired her strongest lightning bolt spell. BOOOOOOM! It flung the shark back. Dead. But flung her back too. Crashing into the...