Firefly Glen Monster in Disguise

A Saint? 

That had not been what Hydra had expected. 

No; she thought this wretch to be a woman who knew the man with the patch of crimson somewhere upon him, and his witch dark as pitch. Why the Saints wanted intelligence upon Neverwinter, Hydra was not positive. Mal could get under ones skin quite efficiently, though, what with his loud mouth... so, it was little wonder he had earned the ire of someone. Donovan was a name she heard of before, but Derg was not. Not yet, anyway. She slipped it neatly away, regarding Nyra with fresher eyes than before. 

At least one of her own suspicions were true. Nyra was a spy. 

The Saints, Hydra echoed, ear twitching; one cupped behind her to indicate she had heard properly, but there was more to be said. To be done.  Do the Saints operate alone? Have you allies, she inquired next, the question indication enough that for now, she trusted Nyra enough to answer true... or so it seemed. And are you happy there, as a spy? she hummed, some genuine interest there. Hydra wondered at that in earnest; the woman was not at all built for the duty she was assigned, and the other talents she might possess were utterly wasted by the man Donovan. Honesty would gain Nyra precious minutes more.