Nova Peak and when the gods summon

svalla has to resist the urge to sneer in the man's face. he postures, and she does as well—sleek muscles shifting beneath her ghostly coat, coiling with anticipation. 

but she would not strike. he worked for a price—of fucking course. men like him were always wanting, taking, greedy. this was no time or place for her heady judgement, though. 

with a sigh and sharp, pointed eyes, she nods. "then tell me what your price is to fight." whatever it may be, faust would see it given. there was no choice.