The mouse was stuck in there--well and truly stuck.
It squealed in terror, but it couldn't escape--it was attached completely to the stone. Likely fused there. The smoky quartz was its stone.
Tiny heart hammered in its chest, and it scrabbled and nipped frantically at the big head coming at it... but Twitches could not escape.
@Jim
Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:
Twitches... screamed. A horrific, sharp, keening squeal, the last sound it would ever make.
Perhaps, in some ways, it was a mercy; the little critter had been trapped there for oh-so-long, suffering, immune to the poisons tested on it yet not immune to their agonies.
There was a spray of blood. A crunch of tiny bones. And then--gurgling into nothing--silence. Twitches tasted like a mouse. There was nothing unusual there.
A moment later, there was a curl of smoke, and a dark-cloaked figure appeared. He strode slowly forward, uncurling a clawed, hairy hand palm-up toward Jim. "A thief, I see," he crooned. Red pinprick eyes fixed upon the fox. "I'll take that."
A pause.
"A shame. Such a valuable enchanted item--destroyed, for nothing. Tell me, my little vulpine friend... Did you intend to pay for this?" The glint of white teeth flashed as lips curled into a sinister smile beneath the hood. "It was very valuable indeed."
Twitches the 'Immortal' is dead, and the enchanted item is now destroyed.
@Jim
The Collector stood tall, silent and inscrutable, listening to Jim's rant. As the fox spoke of the place's state of disarray, his crimson pinprick eyes darted around the den, thoughtful, before finally drifting back to fix upon the fox. And when Jim had at last finished, he tilted his head and considered before replying, his voice a measured croon.
"You do so make an excellent point about the state of this place. Though there is a false assumption here... this was not my den. Indeed, perhaps the fault lies with the one to whom I had loaned poor little Twitches, there. -Tell me, did he scream when you ate him? He was always a little..." and here he gestured, vaguely, "...dramatic." A wave of a clawed hand, and the quartz geode lifted into the air, drifting slowly to the Collector's palm; fingers closed upon it, and it vanished entirely from sight. When the hand opened, there was no sign it had ever been there.
"The fault lies with the one who left Twitches without protection. How cruel," he murmured, staring unblinking at Jim. "Ahh, well. I will go and tell his family of his early demise. All those little baby mouselings," he added, and sighed softly. "I certainly appreciate your offer of a tour. But duties await. Should you ever require a little something to add to your--I am sure--well-kept domain, I am a tradesman always willing to trade. Simply come and seek The Collector, in Monoceros, and I will come."
He paused, about to depart, though he waited a beat as if to see if Jim would have anything more to say.
@Jim
The Collector swept into a deep bow, his crooning "A pleasure to meet you, Jim," chicanery of the highest form. He stepped back, then, and vanished in a small puff of shadow, leaving the den to the fox.
@Jim