Bramblepoint the devil's right there in the details

There are those who do monstrous things, and then there are the monsters.

The weight on her shoulders crushes her to the bone.  Her legs feel like they'll give out beneath her if she makes to move.  She knows what would be expected of her, she knows what would happen if it had been Towhee or Niamh to run across him instead.

Who is she to condemn a boy — just a boy! — for losing himself in a fit of delirium, caused by his would-be murderer?  Her teeth grind together as her eyes, bright and soft as ever, fix on the bleached boy-turned-man that stands before her.

He's pitiful.  There's a cautious indifference to him, a wavering countenance that stokes the tension she feels.  You, she says, voice rife with accusation as she takes a confident step closer.  It's then that the smell of Blackfeather hits her, and she recoils.

She'd kill him.  God, fuck, she'd kill him if it was the last thing she did.  Duty and honor, duty and honor, through her mind, held close like a sacred hymn.  Without another word she launches herself at him, still weak from her fight with Siarut's sister but so full of determination.

For this, Raven might love her.

There are those who do monstrous things, and then there are the monsters.