there will be scars; shaytan, diplomats, any

[Shaytan]

I call her the devil
cause she makes me wanna sin

Shaytan knows better.
Anyone who says they don’t bite is usually lying.
She can confirm. Shaytan may look harmless and awkward, but there’s a set of vicious, bunny-killing jaws hiding behind those freckled lips.

She blinks a couple of times as the King materializes, looking sideways to Erebor and wondering what he was thinking about it all. They’re weird over here, delighting in the magically absurd. Like the freaking blue wolf snout that snaps at her hocks. it startles her at first, and then kicks at the image, despite the fact that the blue gives it away as being an illusion. Still. She didn’t like it. She should do the snapping, not fake sharp-tooth over there.

As his beckoning, Shaytan crosses over the Valley border and almost runs into the fourth Musketeer, a quiet, flat-toned mare. “Um. Thanks?” Shaytan glances around, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“Yep. Diplomatic mission. I assume we’re good if you are.” She looks to Eight and Erebor, and then to Librette. Were more words needed?

Oh Shaytan… how you suck at this.

Shaytan

and every time she knocks
I can't help but let her in