Bramblepoint growing strong

The commentary shifted again, this time back to Roangeda. It was a good question, one that Dirge did not readily have a means to put this thoughts into words immediately. She had always been the guiding force of her own volition, of her own plans, and to suddenly have the floor open to him was somewhat unexpected. Not that she hadn't taken his thoughts and comments into consideration, but for Dirge to admit that he had much of a hand in her decision making would have only gone so far.

"She is young, yes," he thought aloud, "but headstrong. That fellow at the lake was one of hers too, cut from the bone like Vercingtorix. They're warriors." Brawn to go with all the brains they had amassed, at least somewhere. "Perhaps she would be open to an alliance with us and our friends as well. Even young leaders need guidance, do they not?" Hydra had learned from the best, at least in her own estimation, and so far it had not failed her, or Moonspear.

A beat of silence spread between them and once again, her fickle nature reserved another time for them to discuss such a thing. She delegated the tasks; he made an agreeable note only to have her strike in the same pit viper fashion he knew her for. When she sprang away only to slide, he had followed her, grabbing high on her rump with fierce teeth. Not enough to do her harm, but enough to smart—enough to spur her on to gather the others.

When she was off, he would set to the task she had entrusted him with.