Zildra goes from statue to statue, and Tilda waits, watching. She hrms, and mutters to herself, and counts her fingers rapidly... Before settling on one, a lightly dressed male statue, whose life... Life? Life feels fainter than the rest. And she nods.

"This one. They've been here the longest, after all, and any mind would erode under the passage of time. They won't struggle. And they won't think. Easy prey."

Tilda tilts her head. It makes sense. Adventurers are dangerous, and one unable to struggle would be a safe test. Tilda readies her knife. "Tilda thinks that would be the best. We're both weak."

Zildra nods, and slides herself back, behind Tilda. And Tilda feels the same flare of power (not magic, but power) that she felt before, and the statue becomes flesh. Slack eyed flesh that falls and barely catches itself from hitting the floor roughly. It doesn't seem to move, but Tilda doesn't want to give it a chance. She hops forward, and her knife flashes to its throat.

Adventurers (Humans) have more blood than Warhounds. But it dies quickly, and Tilda thinks.

It doesn't have food within it. But there are places where it still has... Something. And Tilda slashes open the first place, and reaches her hand in, claws extended. The heart.

Nothing. The heart makes her feel a little stronger, but nothing else. But there is the other, although it's harder... This time, it's simply her claws, and she thrusts as hard as she can, into the back of its head.

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It's hard, and it hurts. But she can feel it. This... This is where-

[Sword] [Appraisal] [Running]

Tilda knows how to run, tho-

[Title: Blessing of Adventurer]

That... She understands the feeling of getting stronger. She understands. More intrusive knowledge, but it's small enough that it's not painful.

These are skills. These are levels. A title does things. And Appraisal...

She thinks. Somehow, she knows exactly what to think. And the thing she was expecting appears. It floats in the air, and she knows what the words mean. The numbers. With another thought, she looks deeper, her mind racing, her pleasure growing at this new knowledge.

[Title: Blessing of Gluttony - Devouring a being's core (dead or alive) allows the theft of ability. Some abilities are not available to the Blessed due to species restrictions]

Ah. Tilda thinks. Warhounds bite. Tilda cannot. Slimes burn. Tilda cannot. Fish swim. Tilda... Can?

She tilts her head. Among everything, this felt like it "sounded" different. Tilda could not swim before, but now she can because...?

She doesn't know. And she decides not to think about it. It's could have been. It's backward, not forward.

What is forward is the remaining 4 statues. And telling Zildra.

"It worked. Tilda took skills, but Tilda has to touch their..." She searches for the word, but Zildra cuts in.

"Their brains." She nods, firmly. "It makes sense. To us, we know because we are born with cores. To adventurers, they know because they think."

Tilda looks at Zildra, her head tilted. "We also think. Tilda isn't sure if that changes things."

Zildra... Shrugs. "I don't think we need to find out just yet. Right now... You gained things?"

Tilda nods. "Not as much as I thought." She looks at the other four, her voice expectant. "We should get more."

Zildra nods, smiling darkly. "We should."