First, to understand.

"You have arrived on a fortunate night, Son of Gunnar," the creature's mate said, still circling around him, studying him with a predatory gaze in her empty eyes. "Do you know what day it is tomorrow?"

Wiglaf squinted, his head turning around and around, following her. "No, I do not," he confessed. "Days tend to bleed together when you've been cursed with un-sleep."

"Oh, I know that too well as well," she replied, coming to a stop in front of him. Rising up to be above him, she looked down upon him. "Tomorrow is the 9th anniversary of my beloved's murder," she said, bitterness, sadness, and anger all in her voice. "I have spent many nights awake seeking answers. Tell me, Son of Gunnar, what was my beloved's crime to deserve such a fate?"

Wiglaf's shut his eyes and scratched at his beard. "It attacked and killed an old fisherman and his family," he said finally after a moment's reflection. Opening his eyes, he recoiled back instinctively finding her face scant inches away from his. Collecting himself, he continued. "The fisherman's son said that it tore off his father's arm before going into the house to attack his mother. He tried to protect her but was too late. Taking up a knife, he tried to take revenge, but your mate struck him, caving in his chest, and left him to die. The boy got on his father's horse and rode as fast as he could to the king's great hall. He only made it to the door before he died. His last breath was used to beg our king to find and slay the monster, so that no one else would suffer like they did."

The creature's mate's expression was unreadable, but her breathing was hard and her hearts were beating furiously. Her hands clenched tightly, biting into her palms, and Wiglaf could see drips of her blood falling onto the ground. Suddenly her lips curled into a snarl and she growled angrily. She shot backwards in a flash, and another rock spire disintegrated into dust as her tentacles beat into it ferociously.

"It was an accident!" she screeched, turning back to face Wiglaf at full height, fury now clearly evident on her face. "He and that fisherman were what you humans call 'friends'," she began, her voice quivering with emotion. "My beloved said that he was trying to teach him a gesture of friendship where you clasp your arms together. My beloved did not know that he was fragile. He used too much strength and crushed his arm. He panicked and the arm just came off. He went to go to his mate for help, but she screamed and died of fright. Then the young human attacked him. My beloved defended himself and ran away back here." Turning away, her tentacles brought her down slowly, and she dropped onto her knees. Her eyes were soft and her hands moved softly, like she was stroking something in front of her, while murmuring softly in a language no human tongue could ever speak, trying to give it comfort.

She turned back to face him. Inky black tears were streaming freely from her eyes, but a wicked claw was pointed straight at Wiglaf's face. "And your king," she hissed, hate dripping with every word. "Your king sent you, and your friends, to take my beloved from me, for the crime of being scared and confused."

Wiglaf stood firm, ignoring the warmth in his britches from him pissing himself. "My king sent us to deliver justice," he replied sternly. "I am sorry that your beloved had to die, but if we hadn't done what was necessary, we could not guarantee our people's safety, or their trust in our king."

"'Necessary'?", she parroted, her eyes wide and her voice full of disbelief. Rising to her feet, her face was locked onto his. "It was necessary for you to come into our home, and take my beloved's head from his shoulders? It was necessary for you to feast and drink, while I wept? It was necessary for you to return to your homes as heroes, while I pieced what was left of my beloved back together and laid him to rest?"

Her tentacles began to coil around him, entwining him in their cold, wet, and slimy grasp. They closed around him so tightly that he could feel his arms begin to go numb, and hear his armor start to crack. She lifted him off his feet and brought him towards her. Close enough to her face that he could feel the heat of her fury as it radiated off of her. "You want to know why I have brought you to me, Son of Gunnar?" she growled from behind clenched teeth, the veins in her face pulsing in rich deep violent enraged blue.