Redsand Canyon the woman who danced to the music of her own demons

She sensed his irritation, despite the polite smile which she returned hesitantly, and her ears pinned ever so slightly in response. 

The ice of her gaze hardened vaguely, uncertain about this Saint. Donovan and Derg, safe, known. Renard was still in question - the fae as judgemental as he though for her own reasons. She was observing him in turn, testing the waters. 

She tensed as he circled her but made no move, save for her eyes roving back to watch his movements from her peripherals. However, his question caused her to turn towards him with a look of surprise. 

Despite his claims, the Grandmaster did not seem a monster - not to her, not anymore. She swore at times, even now, she caught a glimpse of the conflicted youth - a hurt boy who would not be proud of the things he'd done, the man he might've become. But as quickly as it came it was replaced with the beast he'd been forced to become, one she still couldn't fear. How could she? Even as a monster, he was perhaps the kindest person she'd ever met, the only man who had ever treated her with tenderness. 

"No", she mouthed as she shook her head in denial, wide eyes searching his face for some hint. It was obvious he didn't share her biased opinion. 

She cocked her head at him, curiosity visible on her open features. "Why?"