[ suspicion is still painting her face, and she's quiet for a moment, listening to him. "acamoth" sounds like it's some kind of important place, but the idea of being taken anywhere at all... ]

Hey, firecrotch. You talk a lot, but none of it's actually making your real point. If you don't get to it soon, I'll rot. Gonna leave you here with a stinky corpse. Sound good?

[ or maybe she isn't listening. he's not wrong, though: she felt it, hated it, and rebelled against it. she always had, always will, and her one eye blinks up at him. for all the vitriol she spits, the way she holds onto the crystal like a lifeline— she's listening. ]