She blinks. When the lids open, there's a splash of crimson dyeing her gaze - before washing away just as swiftly.
"I am glad to be in such learned company, then." There's something in her voice, as well. Something distant.
"I find myself displaced. This city would daunt Daedalus himself."
"I am glad to be in such learned company, then." There's something in her voice, as well. Something distant.
"I find myself displaced. This city would daunt Daedalus himself."
Comments
"Learned. Never good at learning, to be honest."
What would Bruce do here..?
"You're not kidding. This time of night, the dregs come out to play."
Terry uncrossed his arms.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
It was the labyrinthine quality of this city. The sky scrapers, never truer to their name than here, that lost her way.
"A marsh. Or, a swamp. Brimming with darkness... and the taste of iron."
Terry cocked an eyebrow.
"The taste of... iron?"
It sounded a lot like... death.
"Don't like the sound of that. Closest I can think to a marsh would be Slaughter Swamp."