Blackfeather Woods drunk and driven by a devil's hunger.

the warlord considers a moment, tongue passing over her fangs. "one can not incite loyalty from a group like the nightwalkers, and already they had their doubts in me; I became warlord before my ninth month." a beat, and then, "I owe no loyalty to those not loyal to me." she does wonders briefly if this answer is sufficient to the girl; once the decision had been made to leave, her reasoning had become clear, ironclad. 

she accepts the reasons the commander lays clear, though interest has her gaze slid in the direction she motions. "sagtannet?" she drawls,  intrigued. she's not heard of it before, and wonders how long the group praimfaya has offered her loyalties to has staked claim upon the spire. 

her intentions beyond that intrigue further. "akin to the one where we first met?" lips curl, almost in the shape of a grin before it fades. she'd been driven purely by ire and wildness then. vengeance had had his faults, many and more of them, but even she could see the benefit he and black hat had offered in in their training of her.