[ This feels more like a crypt or a morgue or the inside of a Victorian museum where you will absolutely be flung into prison or taken to the stocks if you bump into anything, which automatically makes Sana sway a bit at the thought, lightheaded from Anxiety.
This is going to be how she dies, isn't it? In this foreboding treehouse? But at least if she dies, she'll try to be polite about it. ]
Y-yes, thank you for your help, I'll go right now--
[Ah, a familiar reaction. As used to having people flee from him as Barok is, he hardly blinks at her stammering, and simply watches her go before turning and returning to his own matters.
At the very least, Sana will find that it is a perfectly normal and serviceable washroom, even if the mirror frame is a bit... much.
Before long, the whistle of a boiling kettle sounds from the kitchen, around the way she came. She'll have to pass by him again if she wants to leave, it seems...]
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This is going to be how she dies, isn't it? In this foreboding treehouse? But at least if she dies, she'll try to be polite about it. ]
Y-yes, thank you for your help, I'll go right now--
[ SHE IS PRACTICALLY FLEEING. ]
no subject
At the very least, Sana will find that it is a perfectly normal and serviceable washroom, even if the mirror frame is a bit... much.
Before long, the whistle of a boiling kettle sounds from the kitchen, around the way she came. She'll have to pass by him again if she wants to leave, it seems...]