There is a city stretching to meet the sky, and around it there is nothing to see but sand.
Well, it is polite to tell someone why you're about to do violence to them, sure.
"Heard you were enslaving a child. Where I come from, we don't look kindly on that."
She laughs. "I'm raising this child. I suppose you want to take it to live in filth instead of finery?"
Distraction, deflection. Robin ignores it and gets to the point.
"Could they leave if they chose?"
"They'll leave eventually."
Robin growls, flashing pointed canines.
"Not what I asked."
"Who do you think you are? Leave at once and don't return."
"Answer my question."
"--What are you?"
They smile, soft and dangerous.
"Protect me!" the fae shouts, as loud as she can.
One human bursts through a nearby door and tries to step between Robin and the yellow fae. There are probably more on the way.
Robin is fast, and strong, and has no qualms about simply flinging the humans aside when they get in the way. This isn't going to do much to slow them down.
Nothing else is, either. Fae are somewhat tougher than humans, but not enough to stop Robin from doing whatever they like.
Robin slashes the yellow fae's throat, leaves her bleeding out while they search the rest of the building. They've run out of patience with this place and its wrong fae who use humans as slaves and hide behind them in a fight.
A few rooms in, there's a small child who looks up at them with suspicion.
They move back so they're not blocking the doorway and crouch down, putting them closer to the child's level.
"Do you want to get out of here?"
They make a face of intense concentration, clearly weighing their options.
Robin waits, idly shifting the colour-patterns of their skin while keeping an ear out for trouble.
Eventually they come to a decision and nod. "Yes, please."
"Good. Come with me."
They stand and hold out a hand to the child.
The child approaches cautiously and takes it.
And Robin leads them quietly through the house, back the way they came unless there's an obvious side exit.
With every step, they're on edge, alert for any sign of pursuit or alarms being raised, but none of it shows. Robin's face is calm, their steps are light, and their fingers curled around the child's small hand are gentle.
The fae is where Robin left her, alive but not in a state to do anything but glare at them.
The child grips Robin's hand tighter when they see her.
Robin squeezes the child's hand and glares right back as they walk to the exit.