The sphinx shivered. With her fur gone, the cellar air felt surprisingly cool. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her - it didn’t do to appear weak - and snorted.

“Where did you get the notion that I wanted to lure people to me? Do I look like a siren to you? They come to me when they need to pass, confused, afraid… I drink in their fear.” Admittedly, it had been easier in the old days when fear alone was enough to keep people from fighting her. Nowadays she had had to resort to stalking her prey more often than not, and sometimes a smile did help to get the victim away from the rest of the flock, but it didn’t change the fact that fear was what she wanted. Fear, and a battle of wits.