Haunted Wood The voice of rage and ruin.

For someone who held themselves in such high esteem, and who had shown some physical prowess (at least in relation to someone already damaged and stuck in a pit, for what little that was worth) the dark woman seemed quite happy to goad the leviathan in to a rage; it was already hard for him to focus with her so close, but the further egging-on of her tone was almost more than he could handle. Revui didn't care so much for the words used—he had never put much value in the hot air escaping from any wolf's mouth—so the actual terms she used to insult him did not incite much of a reaction. It was entirely based around her tone, her posture, her proximity... And his body tensed further, his lips shifting uncomfortably across his slick teeth as he tried to fight against the urge to snarl or to snap; this was a moment he had been trained for, this is precisely what Hydra had tried to drill in to him when he was much younger, and now he found himself anchoring himself to those lessons in the heat of the moment. Oh, how he wanted to rip that smile to pieces.

You brought this shit storm unto yourself, the woman jabbed mercilessly, pressing her luck with every syllable. Was it worth it to explain himself? Maybe. She would probably take any words he uttered and fashion them in to a verbal blade with which to try and make more pointless little cuts; he could endure this ling-chi for as long as she could dish it out. Reacting at all would only make things worse—even if he really, truly, wanted to feast upon her blood. He could have defended himself well enough with his teeth but hardly with his tongue: she was right, it had been foolish. He had been desperate and afraid, both of which being aspects of himself that Revui reviled. At the same time, he knew in his heart he was never in any real danger; the boy could fight off the likes of Black Hat and their superior, the red bitch who had first accosted him—and if things had been truly dire, he'd merely have had to call for aid from the mountain.

Sure, it was a few hours away—but Moonspear was so close, and Revui's faith in the fortitude of his family remained indelible.

And now I am here, he finally slurs to her, the tension in his jaw slackening just enough to allow him to speak; more like spit the words. I am a soldier in the eyes of your master, equal to you. But one day he would surpass her—and soon. Then what?