"There is barely any. Picked clean by others." The woman muttered and paused, staring at the bottle before moving to take it.
She didn't drink it immediately, opening it for a moment before sniffing. She doesn't trust anyone or anything and that was best, especially after meeting certain creatures.
Inrin [ARCHIVED]
He doesn't turn to face her, simply carrying on his task with a faint hum as he did so. He didn't seem to answer her question at first, but he did take one of the bottles and slid it over towards her.
"Have this for now. Do you not find food elsewhere in this place? Most others do."
Her hands are stained in blood, so are her feet and clothes. The upper half of her face is obscured by an owl mask, which looked as if its own wood had planted itself onto her skin, digging in and molding into her flesh.
She said nothing at first, holding a familiar cleaver in one hand.
Inrin [ARCHIVED]
He's croutched down by one of the few sources of clean water in the dungeon, filling up various bottles with water.
"I'm afraid whatever it is you're looking for you simply won't find here."
@tatteredballgown.bsky.social
