Sawtooth Spire saints have no moderation

Nyra watches him turn as if startled. The brooding glower in the youth's eyes as he answers with confirmation.

A sniff in his direction, and she could tell he had no recent scent of others on him. A knowing glint passes her gaze briefly, but she'd let his lie slide.
"And what is your verdict?" Nyra rumbled. 
Already, she could tell the kid wasn't looking likely to join her ranks. 
Even so, she'd hear him out.
Or chase him out perhaps, if he decided to be a brat.
Time would only tell.