“Please.”
“Right.” His darkness began to flow from his hands. I climbed up onto Sirius’s back, and Grue was a step behind, taking a seat in front of me.
“Any luck?” Tattletale asked. She’d seated herself on Bentley, her hands on the chain around his neck, and both Trickster and Sundancer were behind her.
So where are they riding off to now? Direct confrontation is the last thing they want.
I suppose they might have to move around a bit to find Siberian’s real body, depending on Siberian’s range.
My bugs were still searching for the real Siberian. Or her creator, depending on how one wanted to look at it. I was reaching the edges of my range and I hadn’t found anyone suitable. I did find two adult men that were together. Could she have made a friend in her real identity?
Entirely possible, I suppose.
Also, while I’m willing to go along with the flesh and meat being their real body, I’m not willing to assume their real body has their “real identity”.
Just to be safe, I set my bugs on the pair of them. I didn’t use anything deadly, but I had bugs biting and stinging without flexing their abdomens to inject the accompanying venom. Siberian didn’t react to my assault of the men.
Well, sucks for the two of them, then. 
I put each of them down as a ‘maybe’, planting bugs in the folds of their clothes to mark them.
“Can’t find her maker,” I said.
Keep in mind that by using this terminology, you’re signing away any right to use one-liners about “meeting your maker” to Monochrome Siberian while killing them.
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