“Tch,” the guard tuts at her smug expression and reaches the door to her cell.

The rattling of keys, locks, and the groan of an old cell door reverberates from slimy wall to sodden puddle and back again.

“Whatever,” he says, and roughly shoves the blue-skinned cambion into the cell before she can try anything, who stumbles to catch her balance—a task made difficult with her hands shackled behind her back, but one she succeeds in nonetheless. “Enjoy your last night, y’can spend it rotting in here with the other freak.” He punctuates this statement by slamming the cell door shut with a loud clang and the clatter of the lock slipping back into place, then he grins, “You’ll both be dead in the morning.”

With a laugh, he walks away, taking with him the warm lantern light and leaving behind a dank and dark cell. The air tastes foul, and smells it too—the ever present stench of wet fur and old waste singes at the nostril. The walls are slick with moisture and mildew, and a sewage grate lets in rainwater and who knows what else that pools in one corner of the room.

But her gaze is drawn towards the other corner, where a brown skinned woman sits huddled on a makeshift pile of loose, mouldering hay—the only comfort provided.

Panel 1: Clink! Clat! Eeurrr! The guard begins to unlock a cell door. We see the blue figure’s manacle’d hands from behind the cell door, and the guard unlocking it.

Panel 2: Now we see their faces, though the guard’s eyes are obscured by his helmet, the blue horns and slight grin of the cambion figure is now clearly visible. “Whatever,” the guard says, “Enjoy your last night.”

Panel 3: The guard roughly shoves the cambion into the cell and the grin on her face drops, “Y’can spend it rotting in ’ere with the other freak.”

Panel 4: Clang! The door slams shut behind her and the guard dusts off his gloved hands.

Panel 5: A clearer closeup of the cambion woman. Her blank eyes and hair are white, with wild poofy sideburns framing her face. A black bandana holds much of it back, and the rest is tied at the ends into two ponytails or braids.

Panel 6: A wide shot of their jail cell. Warm light leaks in from the beyond the bars into the cold, grey and blue cell. The deep blue glow of the nighttime sky outside is barely visible through a high barred window and a sewer grate in the bottom corner, leaking in rainwater and whatever else. The walls look slick with mould and mildew, unused chains hanging on one wall, and in the corner the cambion sees a brown skinned woman atop a pile of mouldering hay.