Aerion tried to speak, but Dazmar held up a finger with a sharp tsk.
"Ah, ah, ah. What did I say earlier?" He leaned in, finger wagging. "I ask the questions, you provide the terrified expressions and maybe some useful information, if we're lucky."
He stepped back and exhaled with mock exhaustion, as if the entire affair were a burdensome errand.
"Now, where was I? Ah—yes!" he snapped his fingers. "So after spending a small fortune on very persuasive rumors about our big cat hero here…"
He gestured at Rahna, who crossed her arms without a word, the golden aura around her pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
"…I expected a reaction. Panic. Frantic sales. Drastic price drops. Maybe even an imperial decree to finally release the beastkin from their shackles. You know—progress."
He sighed, placing a hand over his chest.
