The puny human approached, his hand holding some blocks of paper. 'Dollars, I think.' It wasn't anything important for her, but Kyrie and those weaklings considered the objects as special and valuable.
The position to judge wasn't hers to begin with. Humans and the weak fae lived in a reality different from hers. 'Imagine giving worth to anything that isn't a weapon or essential for a survivor.'
How lowly creatures acted like fools. Only weapons, power, and food mattered; shelter was optional for the strong, for they cleaved mountains and changed the landscape to fulfill their needs.
It was a shame how her body had decayed and what remained of her strength was just a small figment of her brutal power. Alas, she could change landscapes on a whim if she so desired, sadly her form didn't allow it, for now.
