Lyriia barely dared to breathe as the man knelt over her, reaching for his dagger. She saw his fingers tighten on the hilt of the dagger and flinched, but no pain came, and she looked up to see the man’s weathered face lifted into an expression of surprise. He dropped his hand from the dagger and she let out a shaky breath.

[i][color=ed1c24]"I don't plan to hurt you, but you'll have to promise me the same for when I let you out. You're no Kvaren. You're not wearing the armour of an Ebon Knight, but I have no doubt you're from their lands. And you've a knife on your hip, small as it might be."[/color][/i]

[color=7bcdc8]“As if I w-would. I wouldn’t bite the hand that set me free.”[/color] The girl said, trying to sound somewhat confident, which arguably would have worked better if she hadn’t still been crying. She flinched away from the blade as the man drew it, showing it to her. It was bigger than she was and looked wickedly sharp.
[color=7bcdc8]
“M-my n-name’s Lyriia, sir. L-Lyriia Elenye.”[/color] She said, in response to his question. No point in lying to him… Even though a twinge told her that telling him her last name was a stupid, stupid thing to do, she reasoned that even if the Screamer came looking for her, he wouldn’t be able to find her.

She saw the knife come closer to her and let out another pitiful squeak (though she was instantly ashamed of herself), but then heard the Screamer’s voice. [i][color=ed1c24]“Lie still. I don’t want to cut your wings.”[/color][/i]

He sounded oddly... reassuring. And kind. Like maybe he wasn't going to cut her to pieces and give her wings to his children as playtoys. Maybe this would turn out okay.

[color=7bcdc8]“O-okay…”[/color] she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly.