Can you imagine having to look at all the things you hate about yourself? Having to be in the same room as that thing if it was all ripped out of you? Every fear, weakness, flaw, perceived and real? What do you think a monster is when we made them. [If her mouth is anything then it's a broken mirror, liable to cut deep. After all, there's something freeing about letting your demons out and living a life the way she was raised; you know who you are, in every single part and you walk tall with that knowledge. How hard do you scrub, revenant, to wash away all the filth?] That's a lie we tell ourselves - no one does a single thing for free, we're all animals, we do things because we want something one day, it's what makes us so vicious and resentful when we're slighted. You're more like me than you think, too weak to make the steps alone.

[The snort of disgust is an ugly thing, as well it should be as she makes herself comfortable, almost wishing she had wine to enjoy all of this with because it's the most fun she's had in so long. She could make her new pet do it but she likes it down here where she can feel his heart fluttering, a bird in a cage.]

Or you think that. Look what the dragons have done; either you believe they have the power to make you think such a thing or to weave such an illusion or you have to deny they have such power.