Shadow Mountain nor the warrior for her glory

nemisis had, in herself, been a weakness, and her loss, in renard’s estimation, nothing other than a strength – she was an impulsive, capricious danger to keeping anything together, and those dangers would be answered in blood. it was just a shame she had fled before someone could draw it.

still, renard had to admit, her death would have drawn the saints into a frenzy over the simple insult of it all. it was better this way, where she could do no further damage. at least derg was not likely to be as much of an idiot as his predecessor.

whether that was enough to allow him his position…that remained to be seen.

as with finley, though, they were reluctant to give voice to the suggestion. it wasn’t so much for fear of reprisal – but things balanced on a knife’s edge, and even the suggestion of disloyalty could so easily ruin them. praimfaya wanted the saints gone; whether that would change depending on who was in charge…

they’d done their damage, hadn’t they.

they tipped their muzzle. “why not? i’m curious to see what happens.” if donovan’s feet slipped into the fire, just what kind of survival instinct would kick in? “if he’s smart, he won’t force me to interfere.”