That anticipation bubbled in her mind and she seemed almost beside herself with glee. Pulling the chain and dagger from her belt she looked at the pale Ollae who seemed to be pulled between the currents. "If you want to stay behind, Firestorm...you may guard our backs. I know how it makes you squirmish to kill even a mouse if you starved." Himelilek said slowly, unconcernedly looking at her fingernails, admiring them.
"It is alright." Snapped Firestorm, her mouth pulled in a tight line and her jaw set defiantly. "I am perfectly fine."
"Maybe you have abandoned your screaming conscience for the glee of the hunt?" She purred venomously.
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Victory favors neither the righteous nor the wicked. It favors the prepared.
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