The Shadow and The Huntress

You speak words you do not understand. The Huntress stared at the girl. It wasn't as if she had a better way to describe her than she already had. It seemed to The Huntress that the meaning had gone over the girl's head. And to that, she did not find surprise. Their deaths are your own.

She went on staring at the... guest. Unable to shake the feeling of trouble. But it was not in her purview to act. Not yet. Not unless something actually happened. Someone was actually threatened or, worse yet, injured. And, thus-far, only her own emotions had been... injured. And that was of no consequence to the grand scheme of things.

The Huntress felt an urge to scoff at the platitudes being served to Faelyn, but remained impassive and stoic. She said nothing further. Made no further moves, simply eyeing her with suspicion for what game such a dangerous bas could be playing at. She'd allow Faelyn the choice of what to do, as he was the one the words had all been directed to. The Huntress, for herself, felt she was likely an afterthought on the matter.