You trespass in my domain. And you are not of my people. Her voice echoes within your mind.

For that, you must suffer.

Dark claws caress your cheek, drawing pinpricks of blood. You shudder, awaiting cruel fate at her hands. But she hesitates, head tilting in consideration.

Yet you show spirit in fleeing my kinsmen. She muses.

Perhaps you may prove an amusing new plaything.

Come, my new plaything. Let us see how long you can entertain me before that frail form fails.