The statue woman seemed to possess some level of intelligence, as she walked over to Leonidas, each step thundering in the sudden silence that had blanketed the forest after Toothpick's death.
Her hands—larger than his mangled body—grabbed him by the waist, viscous blood flowing down the immense length of her ashen arm, an unseen hand painting in crimson.
She lifted Leonidas with ease, but with a delicacy he would not have imagined from a being of her stature. Physically and literally. She was strong enough to crush him into pulp with a single movement, yet she handled him better than most humans would have.
Such control over her body…truly fascinating.
Leonidas shook his head, his love for the unknown sparking. It had been the same the last time he had been in such an unexpected situation—back when he had found himself in the dark void with Art.
