Whittling? What do you make?

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Whittling? What do you make?
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 + 🫂
ELDEN RING
Stormveil Castle entrance
punish the wicked
❝Is there anything easier than calling an Ilmatari to full-bellied slaughter?❞ Orin laughed from her perch at the end of Enver Gortash's desk, all bloodied feathers and bloodier beak. ❝The stupid little lamb-thing threw herself at the opportunity, as if it was all she'd ever wanted.❞ Carrion crow, he thought. Her smile was cut with a knife, as if hearing what rattled in his brain was as easily done as listening to the bile in his mouth. Gortash watched as she leaned in closer and closer to him. The wood creaked, and her bejeweled braid thumped down beside the quill threatening to snap in his hand. Tendons flickered beneath his skin, though the unease did not reach his dark eyes. Loathing leapt up in its stead. ❝How does it feel?❞ Tendrils of red swam up around her throat, collecting on her skin like whorls of blood in milk. ❝How does it feel that your pretty puppet's still hung up on another god's strings?❞
A liar and a player too!
leyla amanodel ✨ divination wizard.
MISSING: Claude Torqirelle. Last seen exiting the Open Hand temple. May be traveling with a pale-skinned, red-haired half-drow named Vernon. Please direct all information to her worried fathers Rudolph & Purthan Torqirelle in the Lower City.