Matilda stops her screaming with that bloop— her own eyes shimmering with tears behind pink lenses— though if it’s out of fear, or the stench is anyone’s guess. The same could be said for the paleness of her face— or the slight tremble as she stances herself defensively, rapier held defensively in front of her.

“No! You—- miscreant!” She cries out, trying not to think about Seth. Zafika. Delilah.

She tries to teleport herself backwards once more, without striking.