Phoenix Maplewood go in flames, meet in flames - we'll find in flames just who's to blame

Her comment made him snort softly, piggishly, because he found it amusing and not many things had that effect on him. Her words did little else; there was quiet, which he liked, and a sour look cast his way from the yellow-eyed crone that might've offended anyone else. She was studying him and it didn't bother Revui one bit, mostly because he didn't have the social skills to be offended. He'd observed her in his own way — watched the way she moved, kept tabs on how close she was to his position — but she was old, and he felt he was himself, superior. Strong and young and in no way susceptible to whatever harm she could do. It was wrong, of course. Had Revui known who this woman was — if he had been granted any knowledge of the world off of Moonspear's slopes as he grew up — her reputation would've brought him a semblance of interest.

He watched her for a moment, their eyes meeting, and he did not turn away. There was a confidence within Revui that had been bred and trained in to him, but a lack of challenge, which was rare. Perhaps he did not feel it necessary to waste his energy on someone like her. But he scrutinized the harsh angles of her face all the same, by all assumptions just as cold and calculating as the witch. Then he morosely speaks again, shattering the silence: Forest won't be safe.

Too many trees. Too many twists and turns and dead-end routes. Not as bad as a mountain, he thinks, but he isn't on a mountain right now. He wonders if there is anywhere on earth that would be safe from the chaos of these quakes, but is more intrigued by what could be causing them. Whatever leviathan stirs deep beneath, he wants to find it. Fight it. Defeat it. As a small aftershock rumbles through the trees Revui turns to regard it with an anticipatory shift of his shoulders, as if he is squaring off against a potential enemy; his eyes glance away from the woman for a breath.