The Princess: "So… What do you think happens now?"

Voice of the Hero: "We're dead, aren't we? No matter how sultry that whisper was, there's a blade at our heart and death in her eyes."

Voice of the Opportunist: "We're probably dead. But we're still alive for now, and that means we can do something to make sure we don't end up dead."

Hero: "Like what? If we try and snatch the blade from her, she can easily stab us first. She's on top, she's got all the leverage."

Opportunist: "But do you hear her purr? She was having a good time, and we can make it last longer for her. She's the one with the blade, after all, you should always make the one with the blade happy."

(· "Whatever you want, of course, Princess! I'm here for your pleasure.")

The Narrator: "I'm starting to wish she would just stab you and end this, because you emphasise your words by raising your thigh up to rub, um, between hers. The Princess's vicious grin turns extra flustered, her eyes going wide."

Hero: "Oh, I see. Think we can make her love us more than she hates us?"

Opportunist: "Of course not! But she does love what we do to her, and that might be enough to keep her from using her brain until we can snatch the blade… She's still close by, shoot forward and kiss her while we keep the leg thing going!"

The Narrator: "A noise escapes the Princess as you find her lips once more, the blade poking you in the chest a bit as her body trembles and goes weak as you move your leg up and down between hers."

The Princess: "Mmmpf, think this'll – mmp- save your wretched life? I know what you're up to."

(· "I'm not up to anything, Princess, I'm just really into how you outplayed me there. You're so smart.")

The Narrator: "The Princess pulls back from you sharply and brings the blade up to your throat, giving it a small, shallow cut. She narrows her eyes at you and shows her fangs."

The Princess: "Wrong answer, don't you try and insult my intelligence, you dirty little thing! I've got all the power now."

Opportunist: "We're no good at lying, so may I suggest we just stick with distractions instead? We don't need to argue our case if we just make her feel she needs us."

(· "That's why I'm yours to do with as you please. All yours, my cunning beauty.")

The Narrator: "Another purr escapes the Princess as your hands caress her stomach, her thighs twitching around yours. She glowers down at you, her face red as she bites her lip, the blade hovering at your throat as she debates whether to cut your it. Finally, a particularly high and tender motion of your thigh sends a quake through her that makes the decision for her. She unleashes herself upon you, her mouth finding yours with fast, intense kisses and little bites while her claws rake through your feathers and leave yet more scratches. But only the ones on her right hand. Her left reaches for your back, and you can distinctly feel the blade's tip poke you there, a subtle warning even amidst the wild, ecstatic kisses."

Hero: "We're making progress, but she still has those trust issues. Still thinks she needs the knife."

Opportunist: "She does. You know she's planning to kill us the moment she's… satisfied, don't you?"

Hero: "She wouldn't! No way, that's horrible!"

Opportunist: "Yeah… our horrible nefarious monster. But we'll find a way to keep her going 'til we can get the blade back."

The Princess: "Don't get the wrong idea, darling. One wrong move, and you're done for. Now tell me more about how cunning and beautiful I am..."

(· "Well, you have to be cunning to beat me, right? You outfoxed me, beat me at my own game, utterly defeated me, and now you've got me right where you want me. Right where you need me.")

The Narrator: "It takes a little longer than you expect to say, in between the Princess's ravenous kisses. Her body is all over yours, her hips grinding on your thigh, her claws pleasantly scratching your neck. It's so thrilling you can almost forget the blade at your back."

Hero: "It almost… makes it more exciting. Maybe."

The Narrator: "The Princess pauses to flash you a smirk."

The Princess: "I don't need you, why would I need you? I assure you, I'm quite capable of stabbing my own back."

The Narrator: "She brings the blade back into your field of view and mockingly caresses your jaw with it as you let your hands run downward over her soft flanks and hips."

(· "Aside from the obvious fun, you need me to leave here.")

The Narrator: "She grins a grin that's as shiny and deadly as the blade as she presses it down a bit, just behind your jaw."

The Princess: "Maybe I don't care about leaving here as long as I get to cut your throat, wretch."

Hero: "Sh-she can't be serious. Oh, she's laughing, it's just a joke!"

Opportunist: "That's not a laugh, that's a cackle, she's about to kill us! Quick, fire on all cylinders, really butter her up, get her too frisky to cut our throat!"

(· "There's nothing better than looking up at those sharp, blood-stained teeth and those clever eyes shining with joy. Princess, your laugh is a thing of beauty!")

The Narrator: "You tenderly let your hands stroke downward and soflty, almost lovingly caress the Princess's body, fondling her curvy hips and, um, bottom as she grinds on your thigh. Strands of her messy hair fall over your shoulders and face. The Princess's grin turns surprisingly genuine as she hears your compliment."

Hero: "Hey, I'm sorry if this is crude, but does it feel to you like she's not wearing, um, y'know…?"

Opportunist: "Hehe, isn't she full of surprises? Princess after my own heart. Let's keep the compliments to her beauty coming, team! We'll shower her with them, touching every spot we compliment… and so get our hands right to the blade."

(· "And that's not the only thing about you that's beautiful. You've got these wide, strong hips…")

The Narrator: "You grope the strong muscles of her hip through her dress, letting your fingers press into them. The Princess bites her lip."

(· "...Your cute tail with the fluffy tip…")

The Narrator: "(Annoyed sigh) I suppose this is in service of your plan to take back the blade from her… You run a hand to the base of the Princess's tail, incidentally giving her bottom a little tap, and stroke it along the short fur of her tail. Her purrs vibrate into you."

(· "...Your adorable soft tummy…")

The Narrator: "You let your hands move upwards to its soft curve and tenderly roll her chub. Her purrs grow more intense."

(· "...Your beautiful, bouncy breasts…")

The Narrator: "I am not narrating that!"

Hero: "Killjoy. Felt good anyway."

Opportunist: "Now, now, there's no need to start insulting someone who's doing such a good job just because He's a bit of a prude."

(· "...Your soft arm hair…")

The Narrator: "You start petting down her arms, past her torn sleeves, only for her eyes, nearly closed in pleasure, to open sharply."

Hero: "She knows we're gonna go for the blade."

Opportunist: "The blade? Now why would we be interested in the blade? We'll just go for a little distraction…"

(· "...And of course your twitchy, pointy ears…")

The Narrator: "Your hands slip up, brushing through her bushy, tangled mass of hair, letting its long strands run between your fingers on the way to her ears. Your other fingers at their back, your thumbs run over their various ridges and hollows as you slowly stroke from their base out towards their pointy tips. The Princess's eyes close in bliss once more and her ears turn red as you caress them, her thighs squeezing your leg as she gasps in joy."

Opportunist: "It's knife time, boys! She's definitely distracted now!"

Hero: "Okay, but we're not using it, right? We're just taking it away from her?"

Opportunist: "We'll see what comes up, what options it presents, no need to commit to anything yet. Just get that blade."

(· [Wrestle the blade from the Princess's grip])

The Narrator: "The Princess hisses furiously the moment she realises what you're doing, but you have surprise on your side. Both your sweat-slick hands grab at the knife, claws out. The Princess's eyes flash with fury and hate as you struggle for it, each trying to wrest it from the other's control. It turns towards her, then towards you, and then your mutual erratic movements send the blade slipping out of your slick hands, flying off into the far side of the basement. It bounces a few times before it stops, embedded between two roots. You and the Princess are frozen as you watch it fly. Then she sinks her fangs into your neck and plants a claw in your face, pushing off to go after it. But you grab a handful of hair and pull her back onto you, scratching at her face in return. You both try and scramble over the other while fighting, arms and legs all clawing and kicking, the Princess biting everywhere she can find. You growl and hiss at each other, pulling at hair and feathers and trying to gauge at eyes."

Hero: "Stop it, this is pointless!"

Opportunist: "Yeah, and we're trying to get a point!"

Hero: "But we're just strangling and clawing each other and beating each other's head into the floor and neither of us is actually getting anywhere! We were kissing just moments ago, can't we just… make peace instead of fighting?"

Opportunist: "Ugh, you're so naïve! There's never gonna be peace between us and the Princess, except as a brief truce to plot and gain a new advantage."

(· "Truce! Princess, let's have a truce, the knife's not here, we don't need to fight over it! OW!")

The Narrator: "The Princess chomps down on your shoulder and pulls back, ripping out a chunk of feathers and flesh. She doesn't stop, her claw trying to find your neck to strangle you as you lie furiously entwined."

The Princess: "But it's right over there, and it's mine, mine, mine, you wretched thing! Not yours!"

( · "Stop it, the knife's one way and the stairs the other, we can just leave now! Please, let's agree to a truce and leave together, just stop going for the knife and I will too!")

The Princess: "NO! I'm gonna pull out all your feathers, claw ribbons out of your face, bite your neck and step on your tail, I'm gonna break your stupid seductive fingers, and poke you in those pretty bird eyes!"

(· [giggle coyly] "Hehe, and then what?")

Hero: "What?"

Opportunist: "What?"

The Princess: "What?"

The Narrator: "What? Um, the Princess stops for a moment, her mouth pursed and her face looking baffled, her rage momentarily replaced by confusion."

(· "But seriously, we should have a truce! We can just get out of here now, neither of us needs to be hurt.")

The Narrator: "One of your hands clasped, the Princess squeezes it tightly enough to make your bones creak."

The Princess: "What if I want you to get hurt?"

(· "If you hurt me, I'll just hurt you back and neither of us will leave alive.")

The Princess: "Maybe that's worth it to me to get to see you bleed out!"

The Narrator: "Despite her words, you and the Princess are not currently fighting, your hands clasped as you're frozen in mid-struggle, the eye contact intense as you lie right on top of each other. Your breaths are ragged, fast, both trying to recover first in case the fight resumes."

Hero: "That's really horrible, why is she like this?"

Opportunist: "'Cause she's an irredeemable monster who hates us, of course. Do you see now why I've been trying to make sure we have the upper hand? Like, she's real hot and a ton of fun, but in the end she just wants to kill us dead. The Princess is our enemy."

The Narrator: "Couldn't have said it better myself, though I have no doubt you'll change your mind again next time it seems convenient."

(· "Why are you so mean to me?")

The Narrator: "The Princess looks startled, as if the question itself is inconceivable to her. Her eyes flashing with anger, her claws poke into your hand."

The Princess: "Why am I so mean to you?! You buried your wretched blade into my back! I thought you were my friend, someone finally come to rescue me, and you killed me the moment my back was turned! Did you really think I wouldn't get my revenge? That I'd just let you get away with it? And ever since you came back, you've been trying to repeat your little murderous feat, to bury another knife in my back. You've shown me your heart, and it is hideous! Why wouldn't I be mean to you?"

Hero: "Oh. Right. I guess we haven't treated her very well."

Opportunist: "What are you talking about, clearly she's really enjoyed a lot of how we treated her along the way. That's gotta be worth something as far as apologies go. And as for that little stabbing event, well, was it really our fault?"

(· "I didn't want to stab you in the back, but the Narrator, who wants me to slay you, made me do it! I've just been protecting myself from you since.")

Hero: "Did He really make us do it, though? He made the blade appear, but we were the ones who stabbed her with it."

Opportunist: "Okay, technically, but she doesn't need to know that. And besides, it wasn't like we were gonna get a better shot at surprising her. I think it was a really clever move by our decision maker."

The Princess: "Oh, none of it was your fault? A likely story. I can see you plotting behind those wretchedly pretty eyes, looking to betray me again, but I'll never trust you again, never!"

(· "I'm really sorry for what I did." [Kiss the Princess's hand])

The Narrator: "You raise your clasped hands to your beak and kiss the back of hers. She looks down at it, a sour yet flustered look on her face."

The Princess: "Ugh, you drive me crazy!"

(· "Ah, but I also drive you crazy.")

The Narrator: "The Princess glowers angrily, and for a moment, you think she might start biting and clawing again. Then she stands up, lifting her sweaty body off yours. She pulls you to your feet and you're once again nose-to-beak, your bodies pressed closely together as you stand. She smirks smugly."

The Princess: "After you then, darling. If we are to leave, it's best if you go first, you're the one it lets come and go."

Opportunist: "After what she just told us? She basically admitted she's just looking to backstab us."

Hero: "Someone's gonna have to show the other a bit of trust first if we're ever gonna get out of this cycle, and it might as well be us."

Opportunist: "Or it might as well be her! It's much better if it's her, because then she can't backstab us about it. Whereas we're very trustworthy."

Hero: "Are we?"

Opportunist: "Well, we've never betrayed us."

(· "Ladies first.")

The Princess: "And let you run back for that nasty blade of yours? No, you've made it far too clear what your plans are. Should've been more sneaky about it like our first time, darling."

(· "What if we just… took the stairs together, side by side?")

The Princess: "They're rather narrow, you trying to get all up in my personal space again?"

(· [Pet her hand] "Well, it was a pretty fun place to be. Not a compliment, just a fact.")

Hero: "I do kind of miss having her all over us, even if she was fighting us half the time."

The Narrator: "The Princess just slyly smirks as you start climbing the stairs, the fuzzy tip of her tail finding your face and brushing over it like a dry mop. Your hands still clasped, you're forced to stand close together, half-facing each other on the narrow stairs. Your thumb brushes through the hair on her hand as you manoeuvre slowly to the exit, every step difficult with four clawed feet trying to climb the rough roots making up the uneven stairs at once. The Princess's feline nose, pressed near you, twitches as she comes forward a little more and sniffs deeply. She flashes you a smug smirk."

The Princess: "I should've thought of the smell before I entered a small tunnel with you, stinky wretch. Terrible mistake."

Hero: "She should talk, drenched with sweat as she is."

(· "You don't exactly smell of roses either.")

The Narrator: "But as you approach the top of the stairs, your bickering is cut short by the door suddenly closing and falling into the lock. You will not be able to leave until your task is done and the Princess slain."

Opportunist: "Come now, there's no need for that, surely you can see we were working on a plan to slay her as soon as we're past this door? Trust me, we'll definitely slay her the moment we step outside."

The Narrator: "No, as a matter of fact, I don't trust you at all. You've made it quite clear you're at least as interested in… canoodling with the Princess as you are in slaying her, and will be quite happy to do either depending on which way the wind blows. Speaking of the Princess, she presses you up against the rough root wall, her forearm on your throat, angry sparks in her eyes."

The Princess: "What kind of trick is this, you hateful wretch?"

(· "I didn't close the door, it was the Narrator! You were watching me like a hawk, you know it wasn't me.")

The Princess: "A hawk that'll rip you apart if you betray her again, darling. But fine, I suppose I'll have to believe your 'Narrator' did it."

(· "He's keeping me just as trapped as you are, I'm pretty upset about it too.")

The Narrator: "The Princess presses closer to you, mockingly running a hand over your cheek and chin and then letting it run further and further down."

The Princess: "Aww, you poor little wretch, locked up with the scary sexy lady, whatever will you do? Lucky for you, there's more to me than a pretty face, watch this!"

The Narrator: "The Princess stretches out a claw at the root wall behind her and touches it, and the roots begin to shift and move all around you as she focuses intensely. Behind her, they start to separate, gaps slowly appearing between them as they retract. Behind you, they shift and prod forward rather unpleasantly, in particular at your, um pelvic area."

(· "P-Princess?")

The Narrator: "The Princess strokes your cheek some more, her grin manic and her face beaded with sweat."

The Princess: "Don't you worry, darling, the roots of the wild will only crush you if I want them to. You're perfectly safe in my hands."

Hero: "W-we should be very nice to her from now on."

Opportunist: "If she could get them to crush us, she'd already have done so. What if we called her bluff?"

(· "S-so am I supposed to believe you don't have a crush on me?")

The Princess: "How very droll, darling. Best be careful I don't."

The Narrator: "The narrow staircase shifts and the wooden door creaks as the roots behind the Princess retreat and form a rough upward shaft, while the ones behind you prod forward a bit more. Finally, they come to a halt. The Princess sniggers."

The Princess: "There, I made us an exit. Keep up, darling."

The Narrator: "In moments, she's climbing up the rough shaft using all four limbs to hold on to the rough roots and pull herself up. You immediately dart after her and start climbing too."

(· "Slow down! Where are we going?!")

The Princess: "Up, up, up, you awfully slow wretch! If your Narrator closes the door on me, I'll just find a way through the roof instead! You can come too if you don't get too lost taking in the view!"

Hero: "The view? Why did she cackle like that, what does she- oh. Oh, wait-"

Opportunist: "We should look up right now!"

Hero: "N-no, we can't, you felt what she's wearing just as I did when she was doing the grinding thing. Or, what she's not wearing."

Opportunist: "Exactly! That's why we gotta look. Can't let this chance slip through our fingers."

Hero: "Okay, that's gross."

Opportunist: "Nah, she may be a horrible little murderer and one of us is probably gonna kill the other before we're out of here, but I'm sure she's perfectly lovely down there."

Hero: "I should've phrased that better. You're gross."

Opportunist: "What'd I do?"

Hero: "You're seriously advocating for peeking up the Princess's skirt 'cause she's climbing up above us?"

Opportunist: "Yeah, what better time to do it? Much easier now than when we're on level ground. Come oooon, it's not like we're strangers to each other, she already rubbed the goods all over our leg, what's wrong with taking a good look at them? She even teased us about it!"

The Narrator: "Of all the quandaries you could possibly be debating while the Princess climbs towards the roof, from where I will remind you she will bring destruction to the entire world…"

Hero: "The climb is a lot longer than you'd think, seeing the cabin's exterior, isn't it?"

Opportunist: "Yeah, which gives us extra time to take a good look at her! C'mon, you know you want to."

(· [Take a quick glance up])

Opportunist: "Oh, excellent compromise between taking in the view and not looking, boss, that's why you're the decider. Hehehe, she's real hairy, isn't she?"

Hero: "Y-yeah, wow, she is. Hehe, she's so perfectly messy and squishy. Um, that was really inappropriate, though. We shouldn't have done that."

Opportunist: "Whatever, you still liked it. Don't you think I have some of the best ideas around?"

The Narrator: "The Princess has reached the top of the shaft and crawls out, her feet already rapidly pitter-pattering away. You rush after her. You're in a large, chaotic, tangled space below the ceiling, high above the basement, like an attic. The roots form both a ceiling above you and the closest thing to a floor that separates you from a drop at least twelve metres deep. But the terrain is rough and there are many large holes between the roots inviting you to plummet down to the basement. The largest of the holes composes half of this chaotic attic, bridged by only a single narrow bridge of roots stretching from your side to a gap in the ceiling showing the starlit outside world on the other end. The Princess is running towards the bridge."

Opportunist: "We have to stop her! If she gets outside first, she can just make the roots grow and keep us trapped in here forever – or worse!"

(· [Run after the Princess and grab her tail])

The Narrator: "You take a sprint across the rough root floor, trying to dodge the ankle-breaking holes in its surface, and grab a hold of the fuzzy tip of the Princess's tail just as she starts to run onto the narrow root bridge. She yells out in anger and pain and rounds on you immediately, leaping at you and knocking you to the patchy root floor. She slashes at your face with her claws, her face flushed."

The Princess: "That is not for pulling on, wretch!"

(· "You were gonna leave me behind! I had to do something to stop you!")

The Narrator: "The Princess mockingly smirks down at you as she pins your arms down."

The Princess: "Oh, as if you'd miss me if I left without you! I know you, wretch, and I know you just wanted a final chance to stab me in the back!"

Opportunist: "Oh hoh, quite the reaction… Is her tail that sensitive?"

The Narrator: "You throw the Princess off you and try to pin her down instead. Your hand misses her shoulder and instead passes into a small gap between roots, and you fall down on top of her, your chins and noses bumping into each other. The Princess, almost as if by instinct, kisses you angrily, and… (Sigh) the whole kissing and scratching and biting and tumbling around business starts again. But this time, there's big holes in the ground a single stray movement could send you falling into."

Hero: "It's fine, we're being careful. Not like we can keep our hands off each other anyway."

Opportunist: "Yeah! Bite her ears, pull her tail, make her scream now that she doesn't have the knife!"

(· "Maybe I – mmpf- would miss you, ever think of that? Ever think about how I like you, despite everything?")

The Narrator: "The Princess starts to reply sharply, but gasps in bliss as you nibble her ear's sharp tip. She tries to start again, but you blow your breath across her ear and once again all that comes out are some inarticulate noises. On her third try, you give its back a lick and she furiously bats you away, snarling and grumbling, her face red as a beet."

The Princess: "As I was saying: you can't whisper your pretty little lies into me any more, you sexy wretch! I know me, and I know you, and I know you hate me, just as I hate you. This is just some fun, and you are rather entertaining in this way, but it doesn't mean anything, does it?"

Opportunist: "Yeah, it's just an itch to scratch, and she's particularly good at scratching."

Hero: "The way she says that, it's like she's trying to protect herself from her own feelings. Like she expects us to hurt them, so she's not allowing herself to feel them in the first place. She's almost pleading with us to go along with it. Like- Careful around that gap, it's way too easy to fall through!"

Opportunist: "Hey, what if we weren't so careful around the gaps? Be a very handy spot to dispose of the Princess while we leave."

Hero: "Did you hear nothing of what I just said? You know we've already hurt her to the point she won't allow herself to feel anything but arousal for us, right?"

Opportunist: "And that's exactly why we should try and get rid of her before she does it to us! Look at her, you know she'll land on her feet. She'll be fine, and we can let her out later, after we're safe ourselves. No-one's actually getting hurt here as long as we win. But if we don't, you know what's gonna happen? We'll have to cross that narrow bridge together. Whoever goes first will very easily be knocked into the depths by the person behind them, so we're gonna be at an impasse again. If we just throw her back into the basement pre-emptively, it'll make decisions so much easier for everyone!"

(· "That's not true, I really do like you and this means a lot to me. I'm so sorry I've given you cause to distrust me, but… Are you saying you don't care about me?")

Opportunist: "Ohh, good one with the sad eyes."

Hero: "She looks shaken. She expected this to go a particular way and that wasn't in the script. But then she angrily shoves us away and sits up."

The Princess: "Don't you try and play me like that! We both know how this goes, try and trick me any other way you like, but not that one."

Hero: "She thinks we're tricking her! We weren't tricking her, right?"

Opportunist: "Noooo, we'd never. On an unrelated note, there's a big hole right on our other side and if we can get her distracted enough we can grab her and dump her into it by just rolling over."

The Narrator: "You reach out for the Princess, gently combing a hand through her thoroughly tangled hair, removing some feathers and twigs as you hold her eyes, the long strands of hair pleasantly tickling between your fingers and across the back of your hand."

(· "Princess, I know we've been enemies, but I feel we're so much more than just enemies too. And I think we could make peace and maybe even be friends again. It's the only way we'll get out of here.")

The Narrator: "The Princess closes her eyes and wistfully leans into your hand, a deep sigh going through her body. Then her eyes open with a piercing look. She grabs your hand and stands up, pulling you to your feet."

The Princess: "Well, if we're making peace, then we should get out of here together. Why don't you go ahead and cross that bridge first, darling, since you so hated the idea of me going first?"

Opportunist: "Okay, yeah, but that was when she was way ahead of us. It's so narrow, if we cross it right in front of her she'll definitely just use the opportunity to throw us down into the basement. And that's a deep fall. Let her go first."

Hero: "I hate to say it, but you're right. I'd love to establish trust between us, but she obviously doesn't believe us and is just looking to knock us down. If we take the first step, we'll get tossed into the depths for it."

The Narrator: "You slide your arms around the Princess's shoulders. A victorious little grin comes over her face as you speak."

(· "Of course, we should get out of here, but I'm in no hurry as long as I'm with you! Feel free to go ahead whenever you like, though.")

The Narrator: "The Princess rakes her claws all the way down the plumage on your back, leaving scratches down to the base of your tail. You and she take an almost dance-like step together, bringing you closer to the edge of the largest gap."

The Princess: "Oh, I'm perfectly fine right where I am, with you. No, darling, I think we're staying right here unless you make the first move."

The Narrator: "She speaks very close to you, her voice a breathy whisper and her tongue moving invitingly as she speaks. You close the distance and kiss her, full of passion and fire, every bit of mutual desire filling you. But as you stand there snogging, luxuriating in each other's presence, the touch of her body on yours, it's like you're in a deadly dance, gently but firmly pacing and manoeuvring each other to try and get them to the edge of the big gap. With little room to spare, the Princess's leg briefly strokes your inner thigh, and as your knee goes weak, she pushes against it, but you manage to regain your composure enough to plant it just on the edge instead of in the abyss as she wanted."

Opportunist: "She's also trying to use her hands around our waist to steer us into it. But that's okay, two can play at that game, and if we're right by the edge so is she. Now it's just a matter of who can catch the other off guard enough to throw them off, and I think we know how to make her knees weak…"

The Narrator: "(Sigh) At least this disgusting nonsense is in service of an attempt to throw the Princess down into an abyss several storeys deep. Both of you teetering on the edge as you kiss passionately, you let your hands wander down to her ample bottom. Gently, teasingly, you grab a hold of one buttock and fondle it, digging your fingers into its soft, yet sturdy flesh. The Princess gasps and breathes through her teeth, but then your other hand finds the base of her tail and curls around it. You let her tail run through it, gently stroking it, before giving it a pull. She draws in a ragged breath and goes slack in your arms."

Opportunist: "Time to pull some moves! Her knees weak, we give her a final kiss and dip her beneath us, right over the abyss. Then we let go and drop her, our lips the last thing she touches!"

The Narrator: "Not a bad idea, but the very moment you let go, the Princess tightly wraps her legs and arms around you, her claws digging into your back. Her manic, deeply flustered grin is right up in your face and she gives your lip a bite."

The Princess: "Nice try, you cunning wretch. But if I go down, you're coming with me!"

The Narrator: "She hangs her full weight on your body, pulling you forward. It's impossible to balance, even with you stretching your tail as far back as possible, and you teeter over the edge for a single, heart-stopping moment."

(· "P-Princess, we'll fall, we can still step back, I-I didn't mean to-")

The Princess: "But you did. And so did I. And it was only ever going to end like this!"

The Narrator: "She stretches out her leg and kicks your knee out from under you. She cackles with glee as gravity disappears and you go into freefall in each other's arms. Your stomach does a flip as you lose all control over the situation, both of you doomed to fall all the way to the basement. There are no choices left to make, no opportunities to grasp, save for one. As you fall, you fiercely kiss the Princess one last time, pouring all your anger and regret into it. And she reciprocates in kind, with a reckless, loving abandon you haven't felt from her yet. For just a few seconds, you are finally free and together, your games a thing of the past, only the strange passion you share remaining. There's nothing to worry about any more, no more betrayals to plan and be on guard against, there is just you and her as you fall to the ground weightlessly. You can love her and be loved at last.

When the impact finally comes, it shatters bones and teeth, the two of you landing in a crumpled heap. You gasp and try to recover your breath, but it's very obvious there's no recovering from this. The Princess looks to be in at least as bad a state as you. And yet through the pain she throws you a smug grin. You try to say something, but you can't breathe, your lungs pierced by shards of your ribs."

Opportunist: "Oww, this sucks! Is our back broken? It feels like our back is broken."

The Narrator: "There's a lot more than just your back that's broken, but yes."

Hero: "This is it, then. We could've made it out together but we just had to be enemies instead of friends. What a mess."

(· "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. We could've been so much better for each other.")

The Narrator: "You barely manage to croak out the words. The Princess laughs a hackling cough, spitting out blood and bits of bone."

The Princess: "Don't make me die laughing. By our very natures, we could never have made it across that abyss. We would've ended up in a heap down here no matter what. You know it as well as I do…. Now we're going to die together, and isn't that a lovely treat? I hate you, but I wouldn't have it any other way…"

But you don't get a chance to respond. Something has taken her away, and it's left something else in her place. Your memory returns.

Hero: "She's gone. Where did she go? Should we try and find her? And is that a… mirror? Why is it here? Why now?!"

You approach the mirror, your body, in as far as you still have one, mended and responsive once again.

Hero: "I'm begging you, don't look at it, it feels awful."

But you approach the mirror anyway. "It's… gonna be okay. You were afraid last time too. All of you were."

Hero: "Last time? Please, this doesn't feel right. It feels different. Final."

Opportunist: "If he thinks it's bad, I'm with him!"

But the voices feel small, distant, as you approach. Silence as you reach forward. The mirror made them leave once again. It's time for you to see what's in it.

You've grown.

You pass through the Long Quiet. There's a cold, misty feeling to it, as if rain might fall from the void. Numbly, your regrets weighing on you, you make your way to the cabin, to Her. It isn't long before you see Her, the Witch tenderly held in Her many arms. Last time, you feared Her, She had been an unknown that had easily subdued and taken away the enraged Razor. But now you know Her, and you feel nothing but regret as you look upon Her.

"Flickering lights in empty cityscapes become pockets of vitality and movement. I am more than I was before. Whenever you are ready, I will wipe your slate clean once again."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," She says softly. "You have brought Me an entirely new perspective, a vessel to pour Myself into and see the contours of you and Me from. You've done well."

"But I didn't," you say, "I really hurt her, from the very beginning, and never stopped. It's a bitter perspective to give You. It wasn't like last time, last time I did my best but she hurt me anyway, this time we both hurt each other despite everything we shared. It was my fault at least as much as hers."

She moves the Witch's hands over her heart in a conciliatory gesture. "The vessels are shaped by their memories of you, but their impulses are drawn to the edge of the Long Quiet. To them you are a gateway to something more, and any hurt you've caused them is understood as a fair price for freedom. But they are only thoughts and perspectives. They are not Me. The wounds they've suffered carve texture around My heart."

"Still," you say, "this was a disaster, and it could've been so much better. There was hope here, actual passion and connection. I… could've done better by her. I know I could have."

"She does not believe that," She says. "She thinks it would always have ended this way. She believes betrayal is in our natures. She wants Me to tell you not to beat yourself up over it, she'd rather do that herself. Perhaps the next vessel you retrieve for me will show us she's wrong."

That cheers you up. "Yes… The next vessel, you're right, I can do better by her! I'm going back to her, to the Witch, and I'm going to make things better."

"That path leads to a perspective I have already made My own," She says. "To find her again would be useless to Me. She is inaccessible to you now. The only paths of value are those that are yet untread."

"No, it-it wouldn't be useless! Think about it, You've seen what happens when we continue to betray each other, but what if we grow past that? What if we forgive each other? I know I can just start over completely, but I wanna do right by her, not just by You, if that makes sense. Such an outcome would show You very different things about us, she'd have a very different perspective, even if the beginning of the story was the same."

She clusters around Herself contemplatively. "But there are so many other vessels to be collected, and they will all show us much about ourselves. Do you truly think there is value in revisiting this one?"

"Yes," you plead. "Please, let me return to her, You will see how different we can be, it won't be like this again, I swear."

A hand tenderly touches your cheek. "Very well. I can see gaining this perspective is important to you. I am curious what else you and she can show Me. You have my permission to return to her. Show Me this path of reconciliation, show Me the way we could have forgiven each other against all odds."

"Thank you," you whisper, looking at the Witch's sleeping face. You talk to her now, rather than Her greater self. "I'm gonna find a way to do right by you, to forgive each other, no matter what we put each other through along the way. I'm going to save us. I promise."