Golden Glade Teach and tell me,

Laughs, smiles, pacing -- Raleska watched it all with a nervousness flitting across her gaze. Had the shock of learning her brother was dead made Niamh snap? Raleska had always liked the goldspun mercenary, but she was not naive enough to trust her now -- especially with all the manic shifts that rolled up and down Niamh like waves.

Raleska wondered if this was denial in a difference sense. Did she know anything about Rosalyn or Erzulie's choice of names? She shook her head apologetically, wishing she could take a step back without offending Niamh. She remained rooted to the spot despite feeling a growing sense of discomfort. "I don't know. Maybe it came from Firef-- Ambrose..?" Raleska did not want to push Niamh any further off-kilter, so she tried to keep her responses docile (a rare thing, given how inflammatory most of Raleska's comments could be). "I don't know if they knew.. but if they did, I don't think they'd care..? Why do you think they hate you?" Her brow furrowed in confusion; while she remembered that day Niamh had been chased away, it had been out of necessity hadn't it?