[Ilsa is far too busy trying to eavesdrop on the fae around the corner, her ears pricked forward and at attention to the whispering and giggling—something something enchantments something revenge—and it isn't until Eustace cries out again that she whirls around.
PRIMALS, HE'S GOING TO CHOKE HIS POOR DOG—
She rushes forward to try and pry Valo out of his arms.
Though, there is a bit of concern that weaves its way into her expression, furrowing her brow.
She was right. This is the work of the fae... As if she needed another reason to dislike them, and now that they've done this to Eustace—a man that she respects and even admires—she's going to have a few choice words for them when all of this is over.
For now, she's going to worry about him.
If he's going to keep blubbering on the ground rather than follow her, then she's going to have to put on her best commanding voice.]
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PRIMALS, HE'S GOING TO CHOKE HIS POOR DOG—
She rushes forward to try and pry Valo out of his arms.
Though, there is a bit of concern that weaves its way into her expression, furrowing her brow.
She was right. This is the work of the fae... As if she needed another reason to dislike them, and now that they've done this to Eustace—a man that she respects and even admires—she's going to have a few choice words for them when all of this is over.
For now, she's going to worry about him.
If he's going to keep blubbering on the ground rather than follow her, then she's going to have to put on her best commanding voice.]
On your feet!