Ivy woke with a start.
She longed to turn her incredibly stiff neck to see what the noise had come from. Clayface had already given her the salt pile dinner for the day (she scowled bitterly at this thought). Had he come to torment her more?
A tear fell down her cheek as she thought about her children and what he could have possibly done to them. Where could they be in this accursed chamber? How she longed to see them, to feel the soft touch of their innocents hands.
How too she longed to feel the warm touch of the sunlight upon her skin, the cool flow of water down her fluid deprived throat.
Another tear rolled down her face.
A shadow moved just beyond her sight.
"What do you want?" she cried, "Haven't you done enough already?"
The shadow stepped forward.
"The children," said the bat, "where are they?"
"I don't know. He's kept me away from them."
He walked forward and pressed a gloved hand against her imprisoned abdomen.
"Can you grow anything to break it apart?"
"Don't you think I would if I could?" Ivy retorted, a tinge of hopelessness in her voice.
The bat contemplated her and spoke, "We need to make a truce."