Ankyra Sound nobody expects the spanish inquisition

Raleska’s gaze remained steadfast on Vercingetorix, studying him icily as he met both Erzulie’s and Illidan’s questions. If there was any sliver of dishonesty to cross his face, she would catch it.

She positively simmered as Illidan cut her short, demanding she be quiet; it was then her yellow eyes lifted from the Dragedan, raking across Illidan in disbelief. What?! The girl scoffed, gesticulating towards Vercingetorix helplessly. He left with her, and he returned without her. Is it not the time to question him? He was our enemy less than six months ago! She wished to say more on that matter, but felt her position in that group was precarious. Even as she listened to her brother, to Vercingetorix, malcontent emotions stirred within her. She did not trust Vercingetorix for a second; it was highly suspect that he had disposed of her mother in the woods, in Raleska’s opinion. 

Fixing the Dragedan with a cold stare, Raleska lifted her chin and spoke. You are not innocent. She murmured, dissident to his claims that Caiaphas had done wrong to him, or to Easthollow. Was it only women that possessed memories, or cared to introspect them? Not so long ago Drageda had tried to extinguish them — Raleska would never look at Vercingetorix as anything but an enemy. You and yours killed one of ours, brutalized Rosalyn, and nearly killed me, too. If it was not for the generosity of my brother, I would finish the job Caiaphas started. Her tail flicked contemptuously, but Raleska held her rage in check just a moment longer. She wished to know what Erzulie and Rosalyn had to say, and quietly glanced upon both.