“Just tell me how to get out of this damn swamp,” you grumble.
“Don’t know. It’s been years since I came here, and I can’t remember where I came in.”
You just stare at her.
“Years? You’ve never gone home since then?”
“This stupid swamp is my home now. There’s nothing for me on the outside.”
“Well, how in the hells am I supposed to get out of here, then?”
“That’s hardly my problem,” she grumbles.
“Well, then. I guess I’ll work that out on my own.” You start walking away. “Maybe I’ll ask these Bogknights, and tell them about the spy in the treetops while I’m at it.”
“Don’t you dare!” she growls, lunging towards you. But you’re far enough away that she can’t reach. You quickly scurry up higher, on lighter branches, to maintain what little advantage you have in this situation.
“Believe me, I’d rather not deal with them. But it’s not as if you’ve given me another choice.”
“Starling might remember the way out,” she says begrudgingly. “Help me find her and I’ll ask. Okay?”
What do you say to that?
now that’s a deal