It had all started out typically. Damara went downstairs to see what her brother was up to. She found him pouring over what she took to be a map of the Fey Lands, plotting his new battle strategies. Turns out upon closer inspection it was a map of the Land of Men. He'd already begun conducting raids there, in order to drive a further wedge between Humans and the Fey. He was taking his cue from the earlier Fey Wars, he explained - as if she couldn't figure that out for herself. She listened for some time as he went on explaining his plans. When he finally stopped, she tried to tell him about her day and what had happened. He told her he didn't care about her day and it wasn't important, and to shut up and listen carefully. Damara's day had not been a good one. She wasn't in a good mood to begin with, but this was the last straw. "For the last I don' know how many yarens, I've been runnin' about doin' this an' doin' that for you, Mog. I done things I did'nae want ta do - for you an' yer Big Revenge. I took it personal too, believin' in yer new Empire o' Darkness yer gonna build. I spied fer ya. I messed wi' peoples' heads fer ya wi' ma potions an' teas, pretendin' ta tell 'em their fortunes an' lyin' through ma teeth ta them. But ya know what, Mog? When ya asked me ta ruin Morgan's weddin' plans, I di' nae have ta dig too deep inta my imagination ta make up what a terrible husband he'd be ta Kyli. All I had ta do is think o' you an' how ya treat me ta fill 'er head wi' lies. I hate livin' in this dungeon o' darkness, listenin' ta the screams in the night...and the stench o' death ever'where about." Mog raised his hand to her as if he would backhand her and she fixed him with an icy glare. She could tell he was stunned at her outburst, disbelieving she could be 'so cruel' to him, her dear brother. Damara raised her goblet as if she'd throw it on him and his map and snarled. "You put yer fist down, Mog. Y'aint gonna hit me like ya do yer slaves. I'm not finished!" She thrust a talon at him. "Thet new face ya had ta grow back cos Gwidion blasted the other one off looks more like ya than ever...like a spoilt, arrogant child. We may be twins, but I were born first an' just because I were born a female instead of a male, ya think yer better than me. Nooo. I've had ma fill o' you an' yer perversity an' arrogance. D'ya understand!?" She stood up in a huff, furious at him. The goblet still threatened if he made a move toward her. Not that it would hurt him...only his giant-sized pride. "Ya don't care 'bout nothin' but yerself, an' yer revenge. Ya know, ever'thing they say about ya is true. Yer an arrogant arse-headed pig. A demon! An' if ya so much as touch me or come after me, ye'll be sorry." "Ya can't leave, Damara! I *will* chase ya down, an' turn ya - since ya won't do it willingly. Then ye'll be my slave an' I won't have ta put up wi' yer mouth an' sass no more," Mog threatened imperiously. That had always been his threat, but Damara was smarter than that. She'd been eating garlic every day for years. "Ya just try bitin' me, ya dog," she smiled cruelly and laughed, then turned and left him sitting there fuming. She was betting on the fact he would never kill her or have her killed, because they were twins and that held some great mystical significance to him. Thus, it was always the threat of turning her. She'd refused his wheedling and cajoling for years to let him turn her: she'd be stronger, he said. She'd be invincible...mostly. Living forever was the last thing she wanted to do - especially in this hell-hole. It had always been less than pleasant here, but it had become unbearable of late. She'd watched everyone else she knew of settle in with someone who loved them - even that little git Moira had her human. What did she have? Promises and threats and nothing. Nothing. It was becoming too much to keep swallowing every day. ***** Thanks for looking dear friends. Enjoy your day/evening! Rayvn