Grouse Thicket thou bleeding piece of earth

Tension brewed, and though Aeronwyn knew stepping in would simply cause worst tension, she longed to. She had no knowledge of the affairs of the two, but from Nico heated words, she caught a glimpse of it. It was at her next question that events suddenly seemed to shift. He swore, obviously angered, and Aeronwyn stepped forward, alarmed at the intensity of his anger as he swore another time, eyes squeezing shut. 

Her pelt prickled, unerved as his demeanor visibly shifted. Not much had the potential to do so, but this, awakening another side of Nico, did. And then the thing spoke. It's words, the Sargent's words, carried withing them a grain of what was Nico, but so much more...drawling. Malicious. Her stance was one of hyper-alertness, ears drawn forward, eye's trained on the male as she contemplated her options, attempting to tune out the chilling words. This Sargent was not aggressive, yet, it seemed. The way Nico spoke of himself with disdain was chilling, and made it hard to focus on rearranging her whirling thoughts. 

She decided on a plan, half-formulated and possibly doomed, but should this fail, she could resort to violence to attempt to subdue him. She moved, gracefully, quietly, toward Sargent, for that was who he was in this moment. She shot a look at Shalon, anger burning through for a brief moment. Back off. The message was clear, the bitch had done enough. The wraith drew up beside the male, regarding him cooly, viewing, out of her peripheral vision, the water she had just pulled Nico out off. His bow and charming smile were lost on her, she was focused on Nico, not this Sargent. She would get Nico back. 

She did not care that he was not aggressive, not yet. Nico had explained all too well what this Sargent was capable of, and she shall not allow him to fester. She circled around him, moving to block his view of Shalon. Head high, unafraid, she stepped forward,  quickly closing the distance between the two and meeting the males eyes, the same green ones she had snuck a glance at once or twice. "Sargent. I do believe we were just about to go for a swim." She stated, voice not as even as she would have liked. It was a warning, a statement. This was Nico. No, it wasn't. This was wrong.

Her stare was cool, stance tensed and ready. She was not her relaxed, indifferent self, and the cracks showed in her facade. Shalon's earlier words echoed in her mind, and she knew that the woman must not be allowed to approach, if only to drive Nico- Sargent to the water. She took another step forward, then another, silently attempting to force him backward. Should this not have been Nico, she would have attacked immediately, but she held a tiny patch of hope that he would return without violence. A stupid, stupid hope.