Emerald:
The Coven encircled Emerald, weaving an intricate pattern around her as she majestically hoisted James' head skywards with a flicker of her deep power.
"Behold," Emerald intoned, her voice cool as the grave, "King Edmond's severed head. Is this not your heart's desire?"
The High Priestess, her brow arched in suspicion, surveyed Emerald with piercing eyes. "Tell me, child, how does a witch dare dream of, let alone accomplish, the decapitation of a Werewolf King?"
A smirk twisted Emerald's lips, belying her Stoic façade. "Why plead for the head of a wolf of such stature if you harbor doubts about the deed's possibility?"
"Evading my question with one of your own, are we?" The High Priestess' eyes narrowed. "When spoken to by a High Priestess, do your lips only form questions?"
