[Fang waits for the woman to process her way through the stages of grief and acceptance that came as part of the package when it came to this bizarre resort. A small smile graces her features when said woman fixes the painting with a glare that would cow a Behemoth. A firebrand, this one — that suited Fang fine. She had a soft spot for those sorts.]

It's crude. [She agrees easily.] Crass, inappropriate, perverse. Whichever word you can think of, it's certainly that. But those are the rules. Unless you have a way to break out of here. Too small a space for me to try my way of things, and I haven't got my spear either.