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	Annalise’s “stomach” grumbled; a twisted sound that reverberated in the armor, and came off as a deep-seated growl from her core. It sounded like a dog growling in anticipation of fighting. Really, she was just hungry as hell -- two full Reflects, and barely anything to snack on. Still, she needed to focus on the matter at hand... but, which matter; the fight with some washed-up nobody or the mission that she’d been sent on?

Sitting back, her tail wagged lazily, as she thought about what order to go in... ‘[color=89cff0][i]Name... Name is a good place to start. So, my name is..[/i][/color].’ Annalise scratched her her phantasmal right ear, “[color=89cff0]Madame Lin Daw.[/color]” There was something about that name, the way the words rolled off her “tongue”... they burned and distorted, warped around themselves, and became lost.

As if, they words were a labyrinth in and of themselves.

	Unfortunately, unless one spent many a year in a dungeon, learning the oldest of langauges, there was little she could do to properly translate the word into the surface dwelling tongue. After a fair struggle, it would sound more like she’d said, “analyzing,” to fill the void she’d accidentally created. “[color=89cff0]Wait, why would anyone leave you? A Minotaur is invaluable upon any quest, against any foe,[/color]” she says, “[color=89cff0]Such power, presented and hidden. Only a fool would surrender it. This old woman won’t leave you.[/color]” Magnus could feel something of a gentle, kind smile behind the hellish visage.

‘[color=89cff0][i]Alright, next order of business... I addressed the name, and the worry, so, now...[/i][/color]’ Annalise stood up, and stretched out; her back arching towards the floor. Sure, she’s no spine to relax, but the idle was incorporated into the spirit of the armor. “[color=89cff0]So, the horse is the target of the mission? How curious. At least, it should be...[/color]” she yawned, “[color=89cff0]In any case, shall we take it back? I have... equestrian training.[/color]”

Annalise set up to walk out the room.

	Pausing, she looked back. Nero was the warrior she was supposed to fight, right? He didn’t look like much. A normal adventurer; one of dozens that she’s seen, stripped of armor, and left to their devices at whatever level of Madame Lin Daw’s lost dungeon she’d ambushed them at. However, her stomach was the deciding judge in her future of combat, and Nero, dressed in nothing but a average, plain clothing, and armed with nothing more than a wooden bucket...

“[color=89cff0]I doubt you have anything worth eating on you,[/color]” Annalise says, before turning away, and heading out of the room. “[color=89cff0]I’m going to go change, so I can ride the horse.[/color]” Her stomach growled sharply, and turned away. ‘[color=89cff0][i]Ugh.... I’m so hungry... I need something metal... jewels... something...[/i][/color]’ Annalise’s tail fell flat, sad, and she spared a final look back; spying Magnus’s axe, and licking her “lips” with a flaming tongue. ‘[color=89cff0][i]Delicious...[/i][/color]’

Sighing, she went to find a [b][i][u]much better[/u][/i][/b] hiding place to change.
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[@The Irish Tree] & [@PaulHaynek]