So compelled by his magical contract, Captain Krysaos slowly ambled towards the final archway.
Tycondrius grimaced at man's exaggerated exhibition... "Why does he keep looking over his shoulder like that?"
"I think... he's trying to make you feel guilty?" Elle offered.
"That..." Tycon hmphed in amusement, "is not going to happen."
After the gentleman departed, the satyr loosed a tired sigh before plopping down ignobly on his rock.
"Alright, the rest of ya's, please pick a way. I got shite to do, so I can't really stay."
"Oh, Mister Sa~tyr~" Elle shyly placed her hands behind her back, "Do you... accept bribes?"
"Ellie!" Coraline scolded, hands upon her hips, "This is a NOBLE gentle-satyr of the forest! An honorable and true denizen of the faewyld!"
"So what?" Elle blushed, "Are the fae really that different from us?"
Tycon wanted to answer 'yes'-- but the satyr's wild, indignant swaying took precedence.
