Sylvanandra watched the girl with the glasses (Betty, of course, but the elf sorceress didn't know names) through the shadows where she hid. Betty was...a puzzle. And Sylvanandra hated puzzles. Or anything, really, that required too much patience. Except for stalking and hunting, she liked that. But puzzles weren't patience, they were...they were like hunting something through glass, you kept almost getting where you needed to go, and then not getting there, and it was just so frustrating, so she'd get mad, and then a whole town was gone and Taliesin was telling her she wasn't allowed to do puzzles anymore.

But she also had to win this stupid game, which normally would be great she liked games except this chick with the glasses being obnoxious. She felt powerful. Really powerful. The only two who felt more powerful, in terms of just raw magical strength, were the genie and her master. But those two were simple, easy to understand opponents. They were magical bulldozers. She worked with a few of those, and she was stronger and better trained than they were anyway, she was pretty sure. But the girl with the glasses...

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Her power felt weird.

And her personality! Sylvanandra couldn't get a bead on her personality. That was important. Everyone thought she was just crazy, all impulses and fury, but she wasn't. She really wasn't. She knew how to fight! And part of fighting was predicting your opponent. And she couldn't predict glasses girl. She couldn't predict glasses girl at all. So the elf had decided to isolate her, observe her, see what she did when she found herself all alone. That would give her some information.

Now, what was she up too....

She was talking to a duck. In a tiara.

Sylvanandra could just cry.