AUTHOR'S NOTES: This one is set after you meet the Witch and exchange some of the initial dialogue with her, establish you don't trust each other, she frees herself, etcetera.

The Narrator: "The Princess, free from her shackles, awaits your next move, eyeing the hand hiding the pristine blade behind your back suspiciously. You've wasted enough time talking to her, she's already freed herself from her chains. Every moment you waste increases the risk of her escape, so use the blade already and slay her."

(· "Listen. You need me to get out of here, so let's just leave together.")

The Narrator: "What? No, that's a terrible idea, you're not supposed to let her out! Need I remind you that not only will doing so be the end of the world, but if what you've told me is true, she already killed you once using only her claws and teeth? What makes you think she's not just going to maul you again when she gets the chance? You know she is dangerous and cannot be trusted."

Voice of the Hero: "No, this is the right thing to do. We did betray her, we should make amends."

Voice of the Opportunist: "And hey, there's no harm in winning her trust back! Get back on her good side. Which just so happens to be right behind her back."

The Narrator: "The Princess seems to sense your intentions, eyeing you warily. She moves a foot as if to step forward, then stops and stands her ground at the back of the basement. She squints at you."

The Princess: "What are you up to, you hateful wretch? Trying to get me in range of that sharp, sharp knife of yours?"

Opportunist: "Nooo. No. Of course not. Why would she even think that?"

Hero: "We need to assure her of our good intentions, and you're not helping."

Opportunist: "You know she can't hear me, right? I'm just offering up suggestions, spitballing, brainstorming, generating ideas, keeping our options open. No need to commit to anything yet."

(· "I'm really sorry for what I did to you. I really do want to help you get out of here. Because despite everything… I really like you.")

The Narrator: "The Princess looks shocked, a small blush appearing on her cheeks, clearly taken aback by that nonsense that just came out of your mouth. What do you think you're doing?"

Opportunist: "Oh-hoh good one, maybe we can charm her into trusting us."

The Narrator: "Yes, well, that would require you to be the one doing the charming, not the one being charmed…"

Hero: "I just thought it was a nice thing to say."

The Narrator: "The look of surprise on the Princess's face vanishes, her features hardening again."

The Princess: "Oh, you like me, do you? No awful wretch swinging a knife around after he already used it to lethally kill me to death once has ever told me that before."

Opportunist: "Hey, we're hiding that knife behind our back, not swinging it around! She hasn't even seen it yet!"

Hero: "She does have a point though, doesn't she? We can hardly expect her to trust us if we're holding a blade. Which she obviously knows we have."

(· "Never mind the blade, I'd like to get out of this basement, and I'd like to get out of it with you. Will you take my hand?")

The Narrator: "The Princess smiles, despite herself, but quickly hides it behind a sly smirk."

The Princess: "If you really like me so much, then why don't you get me a gift first? Be a good wretch and let me have the blade…"

The Narrator: "I hope I don't need to explain this to you, but it would be a really, catastrophically bad idea to let her have the blade."

Opportunist: "We are obviously NOT giving her the blade. That's a backstabbing waiting to happen."

Hero: "Look, I'm not saying give her the blade, but it really isn't helping in this situation either."

Opportunist: "Of course it's helping, it always gives us more options."

Hero: "Does it? Seems like the only options it gives us are bad options."

(· "I'll give you any gift you want, including my heart, but I can't risk you stabbing me in it.")

The Narrator: "The Princess laughs."

The Princess: "Ohh, was that a confession hidden in those sweet, honeyed words? I'm not letting you anywhere near my heart, not until I'm the one holding that nasty stabby knife."

(· "We have to trust each other if we're ever going to be more than this. And I want to. Don't you?")

The Princess: "Remember, you're the one who first betrayed me. So you're the one who gets to prove to me I can trust you. With deeds, not your silver tongue and pretty eyes."

The Narrator: "The Princess… bites her lip and looks at you through her eyelashes."

The Princess: "If you just let me hold that knife I'll make it worth your while..."

Opportunist: "Ohhh good one, gotta respect the flirting to try and get her way. But we can give as good as we get!"

Hero: "Or maybe we should just get rid of the blade?"

The Narrator: "What did I just say about the difference between charming her and being charmed? Focus and slay her already!"

(· "Don't worry, it's not like I could ever bring myself to harm something so beautiful.")

The Princess: "But you already did harm me once, you wretched cutie, unless you're saying I'm more beautiful now than before?"

(· "I'm very sorry I did, but you certainly are more beautiful than before. How could I not fall for your mischievous, disheveled look and your cunning eyes? You're just like me, we could get up to all kinds of mischief together. Why don't you trust me and come over here?")

The Narrator: "Ugh, I can't believe you two are making me narrate your disgusting flirting. The Princess blushes deeply and takes a moment to regain her composure as she twirls her hair around her claw and flutters her eyelids like she's got something stuck in them."

The Princess: "Oh, I'll do a lot more than just that if you'll just let me have that blade… After all, it's not like you said all those sweet words just to seduce me so you can turn around and wretchedly stab me in the back, riiight?"

Opportunist: "Brilliant play, but we can do better…"

Hero: "Are you two just gonna keep circling each other forever? Let's break this stalemate already."

(· [Put the blade down by the stairs] "I really can't let you have the blade. But I shouldn't have taken it either, it's brought us nothing but harm and mistrust. Will you please take my hand?")

The Narrator: "The Princess eyes the blade warily, as if making sure it's not an illusion, and then cautiously begins to creep towards you, never breaking eye contact, a coy smile baring her fangs. But it can't hide the worry and suspicion in her eyes."

Opportunist: "Good decision as always, boss, that's why you're the decision maker. But we'd better not let her get too close to the blade, let's meet her in the middle. We can always sprint back for it."

Hero: "Uh, yeah, we'll walk toward her and offer our hand."

The Narrator: "Stepping away from the implement vital to your task of saving the world, you offer your hand to the evil backstabbing monstrosity as you meet her face-to-face. For a long moment, she ignores it. Then she leans in close and sniffs at you, her nose twitching, the suspicion on her face replaced by curiosity and relief."

The Princess: "You weren't just playing, were you? You really do stink like a lovestruck fool."

Hero: "That was a bit rude. She doesn't exactly smell great herself."

The Narrator: "She takes your hand, her claw surprisingly soft and sweaty in yours, and it trembles a little bit as your thumb strokes the hair on its back. She breaks eye contact nervously. Even though for some reason you don't care about the fate of the world, I thought at least one of you had the sense to want to stab her."

Opportunist: "And I'm not throwing that out the window just yet! But there's other options to look out for too!"

(· "I really meant it, you know. You're even more beautiful up close.")

The Narrator: "The Princess bites her lip and bumps her hip against yours as she walks past you."

The Princess: "Well, maybe you're not so bad yourself. Your feathers are very iridescent. They look… nice and soft. Pettable."

Hero: "Oh, she likes our feathers. They are very nice... Think she'd want to help us preen?"

Opportunist: "Don't let her get past us, can't let her get to the blade first!"

The Narrator: "You gently, but firmly, tug on the Princess's hand and pull her back into an embrace. She looks up at you, an eyebrow raised and suspicion once again burning in her eyes."

The Princess: "Oh? What happened to us getting out of here? You're not just looking for a hug, you're up to something, aren't you, you nefarious wretch?"

Hero: "Oh no, we just got her to trust us. Uhh, what do we do? What do we do?"

Opportunist: "Well, I can think of one thing to do."

(· [Kiss the Princess])

The Narrator: "You rotten bastard. Fine. You move to kiss the Princess, but the moment you do, she jumps you, flattening you against the dirt floor. Your faces collide hard, and your teeth knock into each other. You're not sure if you're fighting or kissing for a moment, each of you trying to get the upper hand and pin the other down as you tumble over the floor. Her claws leave scratches up and down your back and your talons do the same to hers, a surprisingly pleasant pain blossoming as she growls at you. Your bruised lips break apart for an instant, just long enough to see her deeply flushed face, an angry yet passionate fire in her eyes as her warm breath hits you. Sharing her feelings, you find each other again, pouring every bit of mutual frustration, tension, attraction, and hate into the kiss. You pull on her hair and she pulls on your feathers, you grunt at each other like beasts, though whether in anger or delight you cannot say. Even her tail is wrapped tightly around you as you clutch each other far tighter than you need to, like you're trying to crush yourselves into a single being or terrified that the moment you leave the other any space, they'll use it to hurt you. Look what a mess you've made of yourselves."

Hero: "Wow, I didn't know we had it in us. Still, this is really nice, if a bit rough."

The Narrator: "A bit rough? You part for a moment, lying next to each other absolutely covered in dirt and bits of root, your faces deeply flushed, a hundred scrapes and marks left all over yourselves. You just… breathe at each other for a little while. The Princess raises her upper lip, and you're not sure whether she's smiling at you or threatening you with her fangs."

Opportunist: "Probably both. That's what I'd do."

The Narrator: "Noted."

The Princess: "Just so you're aware, darling, this changes nothing; you're still a hateful wretch, just a more fun one than I thought."

(· "And you're pretty good at relieving the stress you caused in the first place.")

The Narrator: "As you both catch your breath, you see her eyes flick to a point just past your shoulder."

Opportunist: "We rolled right to the stairs, it must be the blade! Quick, distract her with another kiss but don't let her know we know her plan!"

Hero: "Maybe she was just taking in our surroundings? We did roll quite a ways away."

The Narrator: "I wish I had a stiff drink, I can't believe you're making me narrate more of this disgrace. You pounce the Princess and kiss her again, your bruised lips burning. She makes a sound that won't leave your mind soon, and once again you're a messy tangle of limbs on the dirt floor. She bites at your lip, not viciously but still hard enough to hurt."

Opportunist: "We reach for the blade."

Hero: "We are NOT using the blade, not when we're making out with her, that's really horrible."

Opportunist: "We don't actually need to use it, just as long she doesn't get to! We reach for the blade, while making sure she doesn't notice."

The Narrator: "As you casually reach for the blade behind you, lips still locked with the Princess, she very much does notice, because your hand meets hers as it also probes for the weapon. She hisses and her remaining hand claws into your back as your reaching arms try to restrain each other. You are wrapped around each other like two fighting serpents, yet you do not stop kissing, roughly and angrily, with your teeth altogether too heavily involved. Her thighs catch you in a vicegrip as they try to crush your pelvis. You feel the back of your hand bump into the blade, a small cut adding to the many scrapes the rough roots and the Princess's claws and teeth have already left. Look, if you want to fight her for the blade, be my guest, but could you please stop making out with her first?"

Hero: "I don't know if we can. Or want to, really."

Opportunist: "It's fine, we're having fun! As long as we're the ones who get the blade first!"

The Narrator: "I don't know why I bother. With your fingers intertwined so tightly your bones almost break, you both try and grab the blade with your thumbs alone. It shuffles and bumps along the ground, much like yourselves, and then… You succeed."

Opportunist: "We got the blade?"

The Narrator: "Well, yes and no. Both of you are holding it together now, both your thumbs hooked around the hilt, the blade wobbling precariously. Your bloodied lips part and the Princess flashes you a disarming, yet dangerous smile."

The Princess: "Oh look, you found your knife again. What are you up to, you handsome wretch, don't you think there's plenty of better things for your grubby mitts to grab right now?"

(· "I'm just putting it away safely, making sure we don't hurt ourselves. Very dangerous to have a blade around.")

The Princess: "Don't worry, darling, just let me take care of it, and then I'll take care of you too..."

The Narrator: "She whispers it into your ear, emphasising her words with a bite as you both put plenty of force on the blade's hilt, your one-handed grips making it move randomly."

Hero: "Was that a flirt or a threat?"

Opportunist: "Why not bo-"

Hero: "Yeah, both. Okay, I know this is a long shot, but we should talk this out with her, just agree to let go of the blade together."

Opportunist: "No need to waste words, we know we can't trust her anyway. We got better things to do than talk right now."

(· [Really kiss the Princess])

The Narrator: "You thrust forward with reckless abandon, throwing yourself into her, tasting her, your tongue feeling her fangs, your free hand reaching down and squishing her belly. The Princess, overwhelmed, lets her grip on the blade slack and you almost gain sole control. Almost. Because she manages to throw herself on top of you and pin your arm into the ground with a shoulder, giving her the moment she needs to regain her own slackened grip. Once more, you tumble and wrestle across the ground, her hairy limbs and your feathery ones all over each other, at constant risk of being accidentally cut by the blade. An overwhelming cocktail of conflicting emotions dulls, yet sharpens your senses, makes every single touch so very powerful and overwhelming. Your arms fighting over the blade cramp and twitch, yet neither of you has any intention of letting go. When the rolling stops for just a moment, the Princess flashes you a heavily loaded look through her eyelashes. She um, heads for your neck and starts kissing you there, her teeth nibbling at you gently, almost tenderly, her kisses sucking on your skin and leaving bruises behind. Suddenly you feel something long and fuzzy shoot up into your armpit, tickling you and making your body spasm involuntarily. Her tail. At the same instant her fangs dig deep into your neck, drawing plenty of blood, and together it's enough to shake you for just the one moment she needs. You fumble the blade, the Princess snatching it away from you."

Opportunist: "Aww, I was just gonna suggest kicking her in the shins."

The Narrator: "But it's too late. Within moments, the hair-pulling and tumbling and, ugh, kissing is all over. You find yourself pinned down on your back, the pristine blade's tip pointed at your chest. The Princess is straddling you and she is quite a sight, her dress even filthier and more tattered than before and her hair resembling nothing so much as a bird's nest, complete with some of your own feathers tangled in it, scratches and claw marks all over her face, shoulders, and chest. She cackles a victorious laugh. Her deeply flushed face splits in a huge gleeful grin as she purrs down at you."

The Princess: "Now that was fun, you gorgeous wretch! But I win! I win!"

Hero: "Ohhh, we really shouldn't have brought the blade down here… Maybe she won't use it after all that? Maybe she'll be reasonable."

Opportunist: "This is how it was always gonna go, it's in our nature! But it should've been us with the blade. Still, gotta give it to her for outfoxing us."

(· "Good job, you got me.")

The Narrator: "The Princess's smile turns truly wicked as she keeps the blade at your chest and lowers herself, whispering into your ear."

The Princess: "Yeah, I do. So… What do you think happens now?"