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[color=6E8E67]Location:[/color] Sharon, Shalador[/center][hr][hr]

The little dog was cute and sweet.  She was hardly surprised at the paws against her leg and she smiled.  She liked dogs, quite a lot.  They were good and honest beings.  Well, more honest than people most of the time.  She reached down a hand and scratched the fluffy beast behind his left ear.  [color=6E8E67]"I think if you were to try and herd them they would maybe cook you.  They do not know you.  If you go to camp quietly and behave you can certainly have more food.  And the pets are no charge." [/color] She chuckled a little before becoming distracted by her moody Eyrien.

She frowned at him.  What had she said about grumping?  She had done enough grumping for them all in the past seventy two hours.  The time for grumping was over.  Action now.  Doing.  Something.  Getting the hell out of dodge. Move move move.  She shivered at the thought of the black jeweled prince.  They had to get away before he could be their undoing.  She shook her head and watched Xandar's retreating back for a long moment.  He was a darker jewel than she, but she felt less fear around Xandar - even at their first meeting, than she had for the black jeweled ruffian.  And the touch...  The way her skin thrilled when she had touched Saetan.  She shook her head again, this time to dislodge odd thoughts and complicated feelings.

She came back to the real world toward the end of Jandar's speech to the boy.  What was this now?  Why was this?  She crossed her arms over her chest and puffed out her cheeks.  [color=6E8E67]"Come now, camp.  Legs moving, come along."[/color]  She approached Jandar, pushing at the small of his back while she smiled kindly at the boy.  [color=6E8E67]"You too, come along.  We need to take a look at what you've stolen from us.  And you need a good meal in your belly."[/color]  She needed to keep the boy near.  She had to talk to Faeril.  Realistically there were only two options for the boy and his dog.  Either they kill him now to spare him the torture of the Queens.  Or they take him with them... to spare him the torture of the Queens.  Even if Faeril wiped his memory, should anyone ever suspect his involvement with them he would never see a kind hand again.

It saddened her that she would have to make this harsh decision.  Children didn't deserve this.  But Mikhail had made the mistake of chasing him... of talking to him...  This child was now their responsibility.  And Fatima held his life in her hands.  She didn't want to, but it was forced upon her now.

First, she needed to speak with Faeril.