Hartsfield

@NuclearFudge forgive me, i tried ;v;

Perhaps there is a certain truth to the Spiral's words, a passing Fae thinks as she approaches him. He speaks with a silver tongue, and the lantern on his tail sways like a hypnotist's pendulum. Is he dangerous? Perhaps.

Is it worth the risk, approaching his tent? Absolutely, it is.

He leads the smaller dragon in by the light on his tail. The tent is large, made of thick black and white canvas and lit by dancing flames, ones that the Fae would swear were simple will o' the wisps were there not barely visible lanterns encasing them. It's rather empty.

There is a small table between them.

Grinning, the Spiral turns to his guest. "Sit," he commands, and the smaller dragon does so almost immediately. Something unnerves the Fae, though.

His guest cannot help but obey. Is it charm? That look in his eyes? The Eleven forbid, is it the lantern that this Fae has become so enraptured with?

And what is he planning?

* * *

It's nothing more than a simple con, a quick coin to be swiped on the road while he can. Hartsfield continues to sway his tail - That Fae, she seems to like it - as he scrapes a claw against the table in front of him. (If it counts as a table, considering that it's barely anything more than rotting scraps.) Fortunes. Yes. Fortunes, that works. He procures a set of cards from beneath his wing. (Not the hat, don't ever stick them beneath the hat. She shouldn't have to see that tonight.)

Placing them upon the table, he begins to work his magic.

Hartsfield truly has this individual entranced. By the time he's out, she won't realize he had even been here. Gazing into her eyes, he reveals the face of one card.

"Oh, this will not do." He chuckles, not breaking eye contact with the Fae. "No, it definitely won't. Misfortune..."

His guest doesn't react.

He turns over another card.

"...Pride..."

That's it. Make her believe something else is going on.

His claws reach for a satchel slung across the Fae's shoulder.

The Fae blinks.

* * *

In an instant, the Fae realizes that her gut instinct had been correct, that this Spiral is nothing more than trouble. She scrambles to her feet, only stopped when the larger dragon whips his tail towards her, knocking her to the ground. There's that lantern on his tail again.

His words come out like silk.

"Where are you going? Do stay. I haven't finished yet."

There's a sort of pleasant tingling when his words hit her ears. His claw hooks onto her satchel again.

It's a rash decision.

In that moment, the Fae rakes his face with her razor-sharp claws.

* * *

She didn't even bother to take her satchel with her. Of course. She broke through the mask, after all. Hartsfield chuckles as he rummages through the small package, wondering what sort of valuables any visitor to the mountains might be carrying.

"Food, food, food..."

Nothing. A pity, this one is. Perhaps what she had will sell for a bit. Otherwise...

Then his claws hit something. Not a mere stash of gold. Solid gems. It's not much, far from it, but Hartsfield will take what he can get. She may not have been worth so much effort, but it's certainly better than nothing.

Rubbing the area she scratched, Hartsfield thinks to her reaction. Nothing more or less than unabashed terror at what she had found. A rock-solid surface, harder than any scales, perhaps more akin to bone than anything else.

And he's well aware that's not the worst.

She should have stayed a bit longer, he thinks as he runs his claws through the snow before pocketing the satchel and returning to his tent.