Foolish and Rash

"These are a much better catch than the elves the king wanted," the goblin said greedily as they walked through the forest.

The goblin had some difficulty getting through the tall grass, but the mutant carrying Morne plowed through it with little effort, using whatever methods it was using to control Essenla to have her follow in the flattened grass it left in its wake.

"But you treated them too roughly," the goblin continued, chiding the mutant. "Now we have to hurry back before the large one dies."

"Hu… hurry back to where?" Essenla said through gritted teeth. Even though she didn't have control of her arms or legs, the movements themselves were still mostly done using the strength of her limbs.

And right now, every step was pure agony. She could only imagine what Morne was going through right now.

"The Mycontae," the goblin said, a crafty smirk on his face. "The king will be very happy with me for bringing his champions back to him."