The forest seemed to absorb every word, as if the place itself thrived on human interaction—or, in this case, something close to it. The twisted trees remained still, while a thick mist seeped between the roots, like curious fingers trying to feel the ground.
Vergil, now with Titania at eye level, let the silence stretch just long enough for her to begin squirming, trying to break his grip. His fingers, though firm, didn't crush; the firmness lay more in intention than physical strength.
"Locate yourself," he said, as if asking for something as simple as a drink of water. "And tell us where we should go."
Titania looked at him as if he'd just asked her to hand over her own crown. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief and disdain.
"Me? Locate myself to help you? HA!" She threw back her head with an exaggeratedly arrogant laugh. "You don't understand, mortal. I don't work under the orders of... people like you."
