Redsand Canyon that was still learning the alphabet

of course she was here to fight, one way or another. but the point was taken; renard’s head lowered, though their eyes remained locked on her face. they were just close enough for the shadow of the canyon wall to cover them too; a heavy darkness that swallowed the brown and black of their fur and did very little to mask the glittering violet of their eyes.

they had spoken, face to face, with hela. once. one discussion, with or without accompanying spar, was a good start. it always was. not nearly a good enough start for renard to pin the truth of the claim – just another person to keep an eye on.

with finley gone, they had the time.

“not willing to support your cause?” renard tipped their head. the fury she had met them atop the mountain could not have bled away this quickly, unless she was the type to fall for donovan’s…affections.

they would bet many things on that not being the case.

which left…what? that she was here as a spy? to see the workings of the saints with her own eyes, and take them back home? would she leave before or after the promised force approached? or perhaps she was here to turn on them the minute she had the numbers behind her to do so? both of them held promise.

both promised to be fascinating.

and just as they had standing on the hill in the rain, watching finley as she fled, they had no orders. just their own suspicion. they didn’t care enough to step a toe in her direction unless donovan – or derg – wised up enough to give the command. if she was here to cause problems…

the saints hardly needed her help. renard would be happy to watch either way.

“i bet donovan bought that too,” they said. the smile curved wider, and they lifted their shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “but i’m not here to hold his hand.”