Hideaway Strath Boys are like trees, they take 50 years to grow up

The halfling was quick learning to expect the vivid -- and often extraordinary -- weaving of words that would spill from Vein's maw at regular intervals; the more he spoke, the more the halfling became astonished with him. This tale was not one of star-worms and warm brews, however, but something darker and primordial. Kynareth seems in agreement but the pale girl's gaze falls to the ground for a moment as she listens to the sordid details.

A fawn -- crippled likely and kept alive for such purposes -- would be brought to the bloodied altar. It would be bled and have its beating heart torn from its chest before being eaten by the Saints. 

She processed these facts slowly, knowing there would be some who did not find the idea favorable. Aerin herself, who had been captured and tortured before in a similar manner, could not deny that she felt some measure of pity for the creature -- all the more distraught that it was a youngling they would be sacrificing. But in the end, it was prey. She had eaten fawn before. Nor was it wasteful; Vein had said they ate every bit afterward. 

It was the unnecessary cruelty that bothered the gentle once-druid most but these were not a gentle people. And neither was Aerin; she had outgrown the slave-girl who lived on hope and prayed to stars. The world had never shown her kindness or mercy. But she had known useless and senseless cruelty far too many times -- the girl of many names had come to accept that cruelty, suffering, was the way of the world. Vein's gods seemed to understand this, to feed from it even from the way he spoke. If the price of their favor was cruelty, as was often the cost of power, then it was better to give a fawn than one of their own. Such drastic measures were not unheard of amongst the most occult and disturbed of sects. 

Her gaze rose again, cheeks flushing beneath a cover of pale fur as she caught the sly look and the wink he offered Kynareth, wondering if he meant what she thought. For now, she remained quiet -- allowing their Grandmaster to question the other Specialist -- as she mulled over what she had learned. When argent-gilded gaze caught the gold veneer of Vein's, she thought she glimpsed a glimmer of apprehension in his sunlit orbs. Her lips curled faintly at the corners, offering him an unsettled smile. It's okay. She was a little uncertain, as it was vastly unfamiliar to her and would require her to step far out of her comfort zones, but the healer was intrigued to say the least.