Why the hell does everyone have to play betrayal like it's a sport?
Backstabbing—lies—poison, even.
She had thought… maybe these beastmen were different. That he was different. A rabbit, of all things. Calm. Quiet. She had looked at him and thought, at least this one won't bite.
But who would've thought he'd been poisoning her?
Poison. Just the thought made her stomach twist.
What the actual hell?
Her first instinct was to grab him by the collar and slam him into the nearest wall. But she held herself back.
No. Not yet.
If she went wild now, it'd be reckless. She didn't even know what he was using. What kind of bitter herb left no taste, no scent she could notice—but made her sleep so deep, so defenseless?
Because honestly, aside from sleeping longer than usual, she didn't feel anything wrong. Her limbs worked. Her mind was sharp. Her strength was still hers. She wasn't dizzy or weak.
Just… too well-rested.
Too unaware.
That was the only thing off.
