Grouse Thicket thou bleeding piece of earth

She realized something, when the piece of Nico she longed for never surfaced, when the male slipped from her grasp. Her relationship with Nico had been built on a great deal of trust between the two, and she had little reason to doubt what he said. But now, confronted by this male that was becoming more and more substantial, her stoic facade dissolving at a rapid rate, she stopped. The other was beside her, but she didn't need this right now. Taunting words echoed across to her, but she only half listened, struggling to control her anger, her emotions. She was slipping, into something where she would do little but act on feeling alone, and she knew very well that that was the best way to get killed. 

Her rage, her fear, her unease, she suppressed, until logic and reason held some semblance of control in her mind. This situation was a delicate one, and she needed, to think. This meeting had been a whirlwind from start to finish, leaving little time to process much of what both parties involved had said. She ducked her head a moment, and when her gaze fell upon Sargent again, it was not the anger, tense, weak one it had been before, but one more focussed, sharper. He spoke, and she made no move to follow, already regretting her first act of violence in dealing with this. She needed to know more, and while trusting Sargent's words blindly would be an incredibly foolish thing to do, she suspected that they held more than a grain of truth, or at least, were truthful in the eye's of Sargent. 

He seemed hardly the violent monster Nico had described, instead, using malicious words to do his work. She paid attention as he spoke now, accepting what he said in silence, wary of the other girl still some distance from her as she kept her focus rapt on Sargent. 

He submerged, and it was some time before she reacted, for a number of reasons. First of all, this seemed a trap. Or a very well thought out trick. Two options existed here, drown him, or save the beast that once was Nico. By drowning him, they would directly ignore his words, and the fact that he was letting them do so sparked about a dozen miniature alarms in her mind. Or perhaps this was some elaborate ploy that involved them saving Sargent, and playing into his schemes. She snarled, in anger at the two horribly simple actions that existed here and the repercussions that came with each in this moment. 

If nothing else, Nico was her friend, and she protected her own. He had awoken an odd feeling she had never felt before, and she had been foolish to trust it so immediately, the small, odd bit of her that felt love for Nico, something the woman had not felt before, playing those previous suitors for her own enjoyment, when she had been a vastly different person all those months ago. But now, she risked losing that little piece of herself, the one that felt for Nico, should she not choose right. 

She could not choose on such little information. And she would be damned should she let the Sargent choose his next course of action. Mind made up, she moved, strong strides carrying her to him, then down, as her jaws sought for something to grasp, to pull up, to save. She needed information out of this male, more than the vague bits he gave out in his taunting tone. She needed to be in control of this situation, not him. Should she catch in her jaws a grip on the male, she would do her utmost to pull him back up, and fervently hope Shalon, who she had neglected for a moment in her thought process, would catch on. Together the two could subdue him, and by her reasoning, if all else failed, she could always drown him again, when she decided so. But she was done making half-assed decisions in this scenario, and letting her emotions rule her.