Expedition

He's not my friend. Marshall says, leaning down to grab Arbrim by the shoulder and hauling him up off of the spike, grunting a little with the exertion. The demon, for its part, shifts sinuously toward Tyndael, pulling its awful head down so it's near to her ear.

He didn't check on either of you, did you notice that? Had to deal with me first - but he knew I couldn't hurt him. What's that say about what he thinks of you? It whispers to her, a pair of forked tongues flicking over his sharp teeth as he finishes.