I call her the devil
cause she makes me wanna sin
Yes, yes, yessssss!
As soon as Shaytan’s hooves hit the lush, long green grasses, she feels a sort of inexplicable euphoria wash over her. It manifested itself in this immense urge to roll in the grass. So she did, without a care in the world as to who saw her; the smells and the prospect of bunnies and the lack of ash made her throw her hooves up in the air and she just didn’t care!
For like, a good solid minute. Maybe two at the most. It didn’t occur to her that Erebor could be right behind her, or that one of the Daleans could come along and see her legs flailing about. She didn’t care that she might be making the wrong impression. It’s just that she was a Meadow bum for so long, and the grass is her happy place. If Shaytan were to have a happy place. Let me rephrase: It’s a place where she can do things that make her happy. And that part of her brain was starting to come alive, making her wonder if there wasn’t some part of the Dale that was relatively secluded… out of the way… so no one could see her kill.
Shaytan may be oblivious, but she isn’t dumb. Killing other people’s bunnies would not be a smart move.
Rolling around complete, she rises with a bit of a whiter coat, the Chamber’s ash cleaned off in the grass. And then her undercover reconnaissance begins, surreptitiously eyeing the land in a very shifty manner. She’s got those shady eyes going on.
But first things first; diplomacy. Whatever that means.
Shaytan
and every time she knocks
I can't help but let her in