of death and poison, however a different scent lingers within the cave. None from herself produced. Something charred smells inside the dark. Her eyes scan the dull surroundings, only scarce shapes of rocks to be seen, no person, no nothing. Perhaps truly her own head -
For a brief moment, the Ifrit lowers its barrier; a dimmed light like that of a campfire that's flames have been put out save for the small charred glowing bits that still remained. If it wasn't the light, it was the immense heat that radiated from behind the pale woman. ━
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The presence lingers behind her, but only...only for a brief second and then, dissolving without a trace before the exile could turn around. A wicked laughter follows, the few moments of silence interrupted by such a convulsion. ━ 『❝ㅤAh yes, dear Akali -- what a frail ━
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state she was in... until I delivered myself to her. And she accepted me with welcoming arms. A pity that none had come to save the young woman. ━
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Then again, I wouldn't allow it. Her master was foolish enough to try though. I left him, barely alive and standing. But /you/, I've heard so much about you from our beloved rogue assassin.ㅤ❞』
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Amusing. Riven cannot stop herself from thinking of the word. Would he expect offense from her and find amusement in toying with a sleep drunken warrior? Or would he want her to argue against being called amusing? Questions flood her mind, drowning most reasonable thoughts -
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about the situation she is stuck in. A quick shake of her head to rid any doubt, she will simply not bother. If he finds her amusing, so be it. Not her problem. Not yet. Fingers retightening their grip upon her blade's handle, the wraps around the leather which usually would -
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be held onto give comfort for underneath those wraps, stamped deep into leather lie ancient Noxian runes. They decorate the entire blade, grip, guard, one must only know where to look. Tied to her past, tied to the monster Riven had become, had let herself be made into. The -
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monster which lies chained inside: her greatest weapon of all. Calmly the woman breathes into the warming air. No longer a cloud of fog before her nose when exhaling, no longer is the cold from outside granted entrance. And Riven hates every second of it. In cold she finds -
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comfort, when she walks a path just like her heart. Iced. ❝Akali?❞ She repeats, the name rolling off her tongue easily however she had yet to play her cards. The demon, he seems eager to play games. Now she will comply. It is time to play some games. ❝Akali was but a toy -
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