Work Text:
Five days.
It’s excruciating.
Skraak watches impassively and does not speak. Their basic needs are met but they are told nothing; they spend five days wondering, straining to hear anything beyond the click of kobold claws on the floor.
Five.
Hellish.
Days.
When Skraak lets them out, Hamid is the first upstairs. Wilde is there, still and cold at the center of an immense, rusty stain.
“You killed him,” he says flatly, and receives a disinterested nod in confirmation.
“But- he was our friend!”
Skraak stares at him for a long time.
“Then,” he finally says, “consider your debt paid.”