Posts by Mercy Reaver

The faint smile on Adara's face made her heart feel warm, and Mercy found herself returning it in spite of the faint anxiety that still lingered. It really was a relief to see that she hadn't been injured in the fire — things certainly could've gone a lot worse.

"You smell."

And the moment was soundly ruined. She rolled her eyes with a huff, but at least Adara seemed to catch her mistake fairly quickly. Despite the muttered apology, Mercy couldn't stop herself from scoffing, "As if you aren't worse off." Her tone was clipped, but there was no anger in her gaze. It was closer to wry amusement, though her expression softened as a more genuine apology was eventually offered. "It's fine, really. Happens to the best of us," she assured her. "But for the future, aluminum doesn't belong in the microwave. Only glass, ceramic, and paper plates."

She pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket to check the time. It was a little past five; Veronica's shift at work had probably only just started. "Wanna go grab something to eat? I'm assuming you're still hungry." To be honest, Mercy was as well.

"Are you saying we bore people to sleep?" Despite everything, the molly found it in herself to make a quiet jest as she approached. She stopped beside Ver with a weary smile on her face, letting her plumy tail brush against her girlfriend's leg. She was an anchor. Tilting her head, she looked upward at the towering siblings, equally intrigued by the pair. "I'm Mercy. One of—" She paused, letting her gaze drop for a moment with a frown. "I'm Shadow Veil's leader. What're your names?" Her tone was a little less enthused now, but she did her best to maintain her composure.

mercy wouldnt partake in this bUT tracking for my child!! ;o;

A former Exiler, and a murderer at that. Her brows shot up as her gaze flitted to Ivorybones. Then again, those two were usually synonymous, weren't they? Her stomach churned as she processed the information she was given, looking around at everyone without moving her head — it would look to them all as if she were simply staring ahead with that blank, shadowy gaze of hers.

She visibly turned her attention toward Annalysia first as Ver accused her of trying to protect the murderer, and then as the Darkseeker jumped to defend herself. So much was going on, so much that she'd just walked into, that Mercy felt more comfortable hearing everyone out before coming to any sort of decision. She needed to hear everyone's side of things. At the moment, however, she had to agree that she wasn't comfortable with allowing this man into their camp as a full-fledged member.

"I don't know if I like the idea of you being alone on a ship with him," she began carefully. "Not because I don't trust you, but because if something were to happen and he somehow managed to escape, you'd be alone to face him by yourself." Even if Annalysia claimed that her cellar was inescapable, in her mind things always seemed to have a way of going wrong. No matter what sort of measures were taken to ensure success in any regard, fate just had a cruel sense of humor — that was something Mercy knew all too well. "Even if Ver or anyone else came to check in on him... I'd feel more comfortable holding him in the ruins." But above that, she didn't like the idea of him being here at all. Why was Annalysia so desperate to keep him around? It didn't make any sense. She'd never known her to have any sympathy for the Exiles, or to talk back so persistently like this.

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils, once more looking up at Ivorybones with an expression devoid of warmth. "Is he so willing to change, though?" The question was directed at Annalysia in spite of where her gaze was fixed. "What's your name? Ver's just accused you of cold-blooded murder, but you don't look very remorseful to me. If you care so much about repenting, why aren't you apologizing? Why didn't you go straight to the Solaris Kingdom to ask for forgiveness? They're a very close ally of the Veil, you know. I never take murder lightly, but I'm even more inclined to demand justice now."

Mercy didn't want to be here right now. She just wanted to be curled up in her den, comfortable in the embrace of Charlotte and Ver. "People don't just change in the blink of an eye, Annalysia. If he could kill a Solarian — an ally and someone your clanmate cared about — without regrets, who's to say he won't do the same to any of us? Even if he's left the Exiles, he lived there for a reason. He was branded for a reason. For all we know, he could just be waiting for us to let our guard down before slaughtering us all and running back to Barghest to punish us for refusing neutrality." Maybe that was a bit of a stretch; she highly doubted Barghest would put him up to that, if only because his niece resided here. But she stood by the idea that Exilers shouldn't be trusted, even those who'd left. Leaving didn't erase the crimes he'd committed. It didn't mean he was a reformed man. All it meant was that he likely intended to create havoc elsewhere, and she wasn't going to allow Shadow Veil to be that place.

Life had been so overwhelmingly chaotic as of late, and it was getting to be quite a lot. Though to be fair, it always seemed to feel like that — Mercy supposed it was something she should be used to by now. Things just kept stacking, one stressor after the other, balancing so precariously atop her shoulders. How long would it be before she finally collapsed? She was feeling shaky, perhaps growing close to her limit. Between Abbi's disappearance, the Ivorybones incident, and Twilightzone's suicide, the limit had to be within reach. In a way, she almost wished everything would finally topple around her so she wouldn't have to sit around waiting for it, so she could truly get some rest without having to put on a brave face day after day. Rock bottom left nowhere to go but up, after all.

But as it was, Mercy had to go on. She was Shadow Veil's sole leader now, and the clan was counting on her to fulfill her duties with grace. Doing so, however, meant constant upkeep; if the facade wasn't carefully tended to on a regular basis, it would all be for naught. It was strange — she wanted to give up, but at the same time she knew that wasn't an option. It felt like she was fighting a losing battle, one with such terribly high stakes. How nice it would be to just... cease in her efforts, even if doing so would ultimately be worse for her in the long run. The promise of instant gratification, of comfort and retiring from her exhausting work... it was almost too seductive. So she had to keep pushing.

Today, that entailed making tea. There was a certain type she'd developed quite a taste for after consuming it so much: lemon balm, good for soothing anxiety. It was methodical work, which was something she enjoyed — it allowed her to focus on something tangible as opposed to the less than pleasant thoughts dancing around in her head. Humming softly, she poured a bowl of water into the kettle she'd set up and dropped some herbs as well, upon which she breathed out a small puff of flame to ignite the carefully placed tinder. From there she made herself busy around the infirmary, dusting the ground with her plumy tail.

APPLE

"Well, I'm still alive." She cocked her head at that. It was a very simple way to put it, and it could mean any number of things. In a way, though, Mercy supposed she could appreciate that outlook for how she interpreted it — Breakdance was still standing, so she was doing alright. Things could be worse. Was that optimism or jaded realism? Either way, she was surprised to find herself thinking she could stand to take a page from the Saboteur's book.

And then it occured to her as well how odd this really was. Two people who were supposed to be mortal enemies having such a peacable conversation. Both were weary women, though; Mercy was dealing with grief and old memories coming back to haunt her, and she couldn't say she really had it in her to fight. Not that she would even attempt to engage in combat with a grizzly bear, even with the flames she could produce. She was gradually becoming more and more reckless, but she wasn't that self-destructive. Though it was surprisingly easy to talk to Exilers one on one; Angelkisses had been very kind to her, and Barghest was a given. Roy was friendly as well — if he wasn't so naive as to expect (or perhaps even demand) friendship, Mercy could see herself coming to respect him. But he was childishly optimistc, unlike the aforementioned Exilers who understood where they stood in relation to Mercy.

"We're calling it the Penumbra Accord," clarified the molly, mild surprise coloring her tone at the warning. Breakdance was evidently an older woman, but she hadn't expected her to possess this much experience. "Maybe I'm being naive, but I think it'll work this time around. All three clans have been connected by familial or romantic ties since before we created the Accord. This was more of a way to officiate that; we've been putting our all into the alliances for much longer."

And speaking of familial ties... She furrowed her brow as Breakdance went on. "I don't think it's possible to change the Exiles' image at this point. Shadow Veil can't just forget everything that's happened — I doubt the other clans will, either." It was obvious that Breakdance already knew that, though. "Who else did he ask for neutrality with, out of curiosity?" She wanted to see if her suspicions were correct. "Was Wind Haven one of the clans he asked?"

Ver's automatic refusal drew her gaze back to her girlfriend. She agreed wholeheartedly, had done so from the beginning, so being addressed as though she didn't caused the tiniest bit of irritation to seep into her expression. "I know," she said tersely. Mercy didn't want him here any more than Ver did; she'd simply been trying to make a point to Annalysia. She wanted to say more — You think I don't care about protecting my clanmates? But she held her tongue. Ivorybones was the enemy, not Ver. She needed to control her temper.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as the man in question began to speak of justice. 9S (she recognized that name, had they met during one of her visits to the kingdom?) he'd... killed Ivorybones in retaliation. And here he was now, acting as though everything was all better. Acting as though killing 9S hadn't changed everything. Mercy stared up at him in silence, digging her claws into the soft earth.

"You should've stayed dead," she heard Ver spit at him. "It doesn't change a thing about what you did or the trauma you left on him."

"No, it doesn't." Her voice came out sounding a little thick — and ice cold. This always happened. Always. Why was there never any peace? Why couldn't anyone follow through on their promises?

"You're supposed to be dead." This time it was her own voice that rang in her head, flinty and accusatory. Radioactiveplague stared back at her with nothing but apathy in his luminescent eyes — such a stark contrast to his broken grimace as he begged her to slit his throat and finally bring both of them peace.

"There absolutely is a reason to feel bad," Mercy snapped. "You don't just get to let him kill you and then come right back! What's the point? It accomplishes absolutely nothing!" Her lips were pulled back in a snarl, and the shadows clinging to her face were beginning to pulse rapidly. "If you're going to put someone through the trauma of killing you after you fucked them over first, at least have the decency to follow through with it and stay dead. What is wrong with you?" She was breathing heavily, the muscles in her face twitching erratically. Why was she getting so worked up over this? It was in the past. It felt like a million years ago. They'd reconciled. But then why was her heart pounding so hard? Why was she starting to feel sick? "You're disgusting, and Ver's right — you don't deserve any chances. Everyone would be so much better off if you'd just stayed dead!" The last word nearly came out as a shriek. Tendrils of shadow were beginning to creep along her cheeks like broken glass, reaching for her throat. She was so sick of breaking down like this. Would it ever end?

No, she would never be so lucky.

Only two days had passed since the Shade Hour. How much loss could she take? It was all just piling up, one after another, and though she was doing her best to stay strong Mercy feared she would soon collapse under the weight of it all. The incident with Ivorybones had only exacerbated everything; she was still shaken from the day's earlier events, memories of times long past racing through her mind, taunting her.

Sighing, she padded into the meeting room and made her way up onto the customary stone. The molly automatically sidestepped to make room for Abbi, and only after she'd situated herself and parted her jaws to call for everyone's attention did she recognize her mistake. Looking uncomfortable, she shuffled back to the center of the perch. It felt so... lonely up there by herself. She stared ahead for a few moments in silence, brushing her forepaw against the smooth surface of the stone. It felt cold.

"Shadow Veil," Mercy called, realizing with a degree of unease that during every meeting she'd held lately, she'd been nearly overwhelmed with grief. Would it ever end? "Please gather for this week's meeting." It wasn't her turn to host. Would anybody else notice? How many of them were aware of what had happened? Could they feel his absence? Word had to have spread quickly. "As you probably know... Abbi's— well, he's disappeared. I mean, he left on his own, but... we don't know where he's gone and he's not coming back anytime soon — if ever. So I'm your sole Shadowkeeper for the moment." There was a deep frown on her face as she spoke. It was one of sadness, but there was an underlying sense of anxiety. Would she be able to manage without a co-leader? She could always promote Ver, but her girlfriend was busy enough as it was with her other leadership and second in command roles throughout the rest of her clans. Mercy would have to give it some thought.

"On a... lighter note, welcome to Faisal, Powderpaw, Vaughn, and Nikita, and welcome back to Kuraokami. I'm sorry you've come at such a, ah, weird time, but we're all happy to have you with us." Her words were genuine; it was nice to have so many new faces around. Even if the first was a source of great tension, though Mercy couldn't help but feel bad for Faisal. Perhaps he'd done some less than savory things in the past, but he appeared to be a brand new man now — did he really deserve to be held accountable for things he had no recollection of whatsoever, things that felt as though they were done by someone else entirely?

"Shout outs to Leesha, Junepaw, and Ver," continued the molly, shadowy gaze searching for them in the crowd to offer them a very weary smile. "Warning to Madrabbits, and final warning to Kodiak. Though I know you've been through quite a bit recently, Kodiak, so talk to me if you want to work something out. Ruele and Spiritline are demoted. That being said, that leaves no Spiritcaller students, so I'll be keeping an eye out for potential additions to the medical team from here on out." This always seemed to happen, she noted with a twitch of one ear. The team always seemed to be changing; it made her miss Sunpaw deeply. "Sylvan is promoted to Nightwatcher and she also gets the Sociable title. Thank you for your hard work."

The next announcement wasn't nearly as pleasant, and just thinking about it summoned an irritated expression onto the molly's face. "Shadow Veil and the Painted Brigade are no longer allies," she declared. "Abbi and I discussed it with Ver and the Midnightbringers, and we all agreed that it'd be better to focus on our closer allies as opposed to an alliance that had very little substance to begin with. The Painted Brigade didn't exactly take it very well, so... be mindful of that in the event that you encounter their members, I suppose. Be civil, of course, and maybe setting that example will teach them some maturity." Perhaps that last comment wasn't professional, but she couldn't help slipping it in with a slightly curled lip. "Anyway, Wind Haven has invited us to a masquerade ball — please try to attend. Sylvan's also decorating the camp; let's all give her a hand. Junepaw's hosting a game of tag with a unique spin, and Riptide has set up an advice booth. Small reminder to all of the ambassadors: please visit your assigned clan as soon as you get the chance. Once everyone's done so, I'd like for Adara to hold another ambassador meeting to exchange news and ideas."

"Now, there was an... incident on the border today, so I just want to make something clear." Her gaze hardened as she spoke, the shadows concealing her eyes beginning to pulse very slowly. "The Exiles are not our friends. Abbi and I rejected their attempt at neutrality because none of us should have to roll over for them after all they've done to us — they can't be trusted, especially now that they might be angry with us. If anyone associated with those monsters comes anywhere near our border, chase them off. I don't care if they claim to have deserted; leaving the Exiles doesn't erase past murders and other crimes, especially if they aren't sorry for what they've done," she declared with bared teeth. "This is not up for debate, and if anyone decides to vouch for one of them again, there will be consequences. Do you understand, Annalysia? Do not argue with your superiors like that again."

Another long sigh escaped her as she forced herself to calm down. "Before I dismiss the meeting," said Mercy, "I want to get everyone's feedback on something: what are your thoughts on the buddy system? Is it worth keeping it? I feel like it's not nearly as popular as Abbi and I had hoped for when we first implemented it, so if it's not doing any good I can get rid of it."

If she'd known Riptide better, Mercy certainly would have done her best to assign him more suitable tasks. As it was, perhaps she'd... projected just a little bit with these ones. Arts and crafts were something she thoroughly enjoyed, and she almost desperately wanted some way to calm down other than cleaning or making tea for the millionth time. And, well, maybe she just wanted some guidance from a clanmate. Someome to talk things out with and get a second opinion from.

If only it were that easy.

She wanted to talk things out, she really did, but Mercy knew that simply wasn't possible. She could hardly bear the thought of telling Ver and Charlotte about all that had happened in the past with Barghest, Shadow Veil, and everything in between, and she was supposed to be able to trust her partners with anything. But as she approached Riptides booth, eyeing the colorful wood and bold lettering with a smile, she wondered what would happen if she were to just... dump it all on her clanmate right there and then.

The Exiles' leader is my uncle and I hate his clan but I can't hate him. I used to be at war with Shadow Veil — I used to hate this place with every fiber of my being. But I loved it before that because I grew up here and I lived happily with Barghest and my mom, but my mom would want me dead if she were still around and Barghest has every right to want me dead but he doesn't and I'm still not one hundred percent sure how to feel about it.

"Got any advice for an expectant mother?" was all she asked, her brow quirked in faint amusement. She'd been pregnant once before, but she wanted to hear what Riptide could come up with at his age, and with his gender.

Something had been feeling... different lately. Maybe she should've caught on sooner; she knew the signs, after all, given her medical and personal experience. Things had just been so chaotic lately — it was scarily easy to get wrapped up in it all. The suicide, the Exiles, Ivorybones, everything. Stacking and stacking, pushing the good things to the background. Her marriage to Charlotte had made her so happy; why couldn't she just focus on that?

When she woke up that morning, Mercy felt bloated and sluggish. The sensation had beenn growing more and more prevalant with the passage of time, but she hadn't paid it much attention in favor of more important matters. Perhaps it was just a side effect of all the stress. She padded out of her den and into the ruins, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she thought back to the ceremony. Focus on the good things. Maybe going for a walk would help to clear her head. And so she made her way into the foggy woods, studying the flora, wondering which ones Charlotte would like best if she were to make a bouquet for her. Nose twitching, she lowered her head to pluck a glowing flower from the earth — but stopped halfway down with a wince.

Stomach pains? Pursing her lips, she sat back and gently held a forepaw to her abdomen. Then she slid it lower, feeling her soft belly fur with a careful degree of gingerness. The skin felt especially sensitive, and if she pressed too hard (which wasn't very hard at all) it ached. Am I...?

Excitement pricked at her as she rose to her paws. There was nervous energy as well, though she didn't know why. Happiness had a way of taunting her, floating so close and then yanking itself just out of reach at the worst possible moment. This time, Mercy wouldn't let it.

She made her way to a nearby stream with quivering whiskers and stepped into the cool, shallow water. Down she looked, and a hollow-eyed molly stared right back. There was newfound hope in that eerie gaze. And lower... she was bloated. A rounded torso, though it was difficult to notice at first thanks to the thick coat of fur draped over her frame. But now that she was looking for it, it felt obvious. Another flash of pain suddenly took hold of her, blossoming from exactly where she'd expected it to. She lowered her head with bared teeth, lips peeled back... in a smile.

"I'm pregnant," whispered the Shadowkeeper, her voice unbelievably soft and tender.

BoneClan. That was a name she hadn't heard in a while; despite the fact that she'd been born there, the molly had never held much of an opinion on it. Dreamdoll had brought her to ShadowClan too early on for her to know anything about that place, or care much at all. Perhaps as a young girl she'd wondered every now and again what it would've been like to grow up there instead, but she had to say that she hadn't given the clan much thought in a very long time.

"BoneClan was an Earth clan a long time ago," offered Mercy as she approached, letting her gaze drop to skim the note. "I was actually born there, but I grew up in—" She abruptly cut herself off, furrowing her brow. At this point, she figured there really wasn't any danger in revealing her long-standing history with Shadow Veil, but at the same time, something always seemed to stop her from speaking on it. Charlotte was the only person here who knew, if she wasn't mistaken. It was just... too sensitive a subject to go into detail on and, while not harmful in itself, too many questions might lead to some less than savory aspects of her past being uncovered. "I grew up in another clan. Anyway, I think BoneClan merged with another group a while ago, but I guess someone's reviving it?"

She was tired, wanting nothing more than a good nap, but knew this was more important. And so Mercy made her way over at Riptide's call with pricked ears. "I'll take one, please."

Mercy had been lounging in the camp, thinking about what to name her children, when an NPC suddenly came rushing to meet her. Their eyes were wide and their tabby fur was bristling — fear was rolling off of them in waves, and Mercy was instantly alert. The report she received made her want to tear her hair out: "Junepaw's been attacked! He's lost a leg."

She was on her feet in the blink of an eye, darting to the infirmary as fast as she could manage and grabbing her satchel, stuffing it to the brim with supplies. Ver was already on the scene, the NPC had assurred her, but it wasn't too comforting. Junepaw needed as much medical attention as he could get, and fast. He doesn't deserve this. How could this've happened? Maybe it was Ivorybones, striking back for driving him out. Maybe it was the Exiles for refusing neutrality. Whoever it had been, they would most certainly pay for this.

Once she'd gathered everything, Mercy raced into the forest with a pounding heart. Faster. I need to get there now! She put on an extra burst of speed, but she was tiring quickly on account of her pregnancy. Running like this probably wasn't the best thing in the world for her unborn children — but that didn't matter right now. Junepaw might die from blood loss if she didn't hurry.

Finally she reached them, and the sight she was met with made her stomach drop to her paws. Junepaw looked pitiful, and just looking at him, bloodied and petrified, made her want to sob and bemoan this terrible fate. He doesn't deserve this, she thought again as she hurried closer. But then again, no one ever did; fate had never been known for its kindness. "I'm here," she said to Ver, her mind whirling as she opened her satchel and dug around for a small pouch. "Here, Junepaw, eat these poppy seeds to numb the pain." As she spoke, the molly reached out and offered him a handful, more than an average dose for headaches and cuts and the like; she didn't want him to feel this at all. Once he'd taken them — she would force them into his mouth if he didn't respond — Mercy pulled a damp cloth out of her bag and began to dab at the wound, cleaning away the excess blood. The metallic stench of blood was nearly overpowering, choking her, but... another familiar scent lied beneath it.

An icy chill worked its way down her spine. "Did the Painted Brigade do this?" Breaking off the alliance had created tension, yes; both sides had lost their temper. But Mercy hadn't expected them to retaliate, especially not like this. Once she'd finished, she put the cloth away and took out bandages in its place. "I can't believe this. I can't believe they'd do this,"she went on, carefully beginning to wrap Junepaw's stump of a leg. "Why are they so angry about losing an alliance that was barely there in the first place? And how could they take it out on Junepaw of all people?!" Gritting her teeth, she rose to her paws and took a step back. "We need to get him back to camp. Can you carry him, Ver?"

Mercy tilted her head as she was addressed, looking mildly uncomfortable with the comment. It wasn't as though she had any other name to call him by, though she refrained from pointing that out — the tension in the air seemed to have stolen her voice. And South— he wasn't the type of person one wanted to anger. His presence had always been imposing, even while they were clanmates. Not that Mercy feared him, per say, but she would be lying if she claimed not to be at least a little intimidated by the gruff man.

Her ears pricked up as a new name was finally offered. Kuraokami. It was unlike any name she'd heard in the past. Her shadowy gaze flitted to Alastor as he greeted him in a less than pleased tone, to which she shot him a look of disapproval. He, too, had always been gruff, and while Mercy respected him for his strategic mind and willingness to defend the clan, this was not the time to be curt. "Of course you can return," she confirmed with a nod. "It's good to have you back. How've you been?" She still spoke with a faint degree of hesitance, though there was genuine curiosity in her tone as well. As she waited for a response, she thought back to the first and only time they'd spoken one on one, when they'd realized they both hailed from Volary Flights — or, more accurately, HawkClan. Where was his avian companion now? She looked upward in search of the hawk, but to no avail. Perhaps it had flown ahead or perched in a tree, out of sight.

ooc: :-( !!!

Mercy had seen Leesha run off, but for a good while she'd been too caught up in her own grief to do anything about it. Now, though, she was beginning to regret that. Her eyes were puffy as she padded through the woods, nose twitching with her efforts to track her clanmate's scent. I should've comforted her when I could, thought the Shadowkeeper, a frown marring her features. Leesha was just a child; she needed comfort and support more than Mercy. Why was she always so neglectful?

Her heart nearly leaped out of her throat as Leesha's scent was suddenly overpowered by another. It was an acrid odor, one she recognized almost immediately. "No..." Why now, of all times? The molly's gaze darted this way and that, looking for signs of a struggle. The surrounding flora was undisturbed, as was the earth beneath her paws. No blood spattered the ground, either. But then why...?

Numb with anxiety and grief, Mercy trotted briskly along, following the Exiles' scent. Leesha's intermingled with it, and the trail... it led off of the territory. "No! No, no, no..." Someone had to have simply snatched her up and run off — Leesha may have started her training early, but she'd never engaged in combat; she'd surely be an easy target who'd hardly be able to put up a fight. "Leesha's been captured!" There was frustration in her cry, tinged with fear. Right after Abbi's disappearance... This is so unfair!

Mercy had been quite optimistic about the alliance with the Thunderlands; Julian was a well-spoken man who'd proven himself to be very driven, and as such, hearing that he'd stepped down came as somewhat of a disappointment to her. She'd been looking forward to working with him — it was nice for an alliance that didn't involve any of her friends or family to hold such promise. It was different, in a refreshing sort of way. Not that she had any issues with coordinating with Ver and Cassiopeia, of course.

Naturally, the tension that hung in the air was concerning. She approached with a furrowed brow as Feliks addressed Adara and explained his stance, and then as Laika chimed in as well. Ver raided the Thunderlands? she thought with a jolt of surprise. Frankly, she'd been worried that something like this would happen eventually; living with a paw in so many clans was almost asking for a conflict of interests. But Ver had always had her reasons, and she always seemed so happy, so Mercy had never voiced her concerns. Perhaps she should've.

She parted her jaws to speak and officially make her presence known, but faltered as something Laika said caught her attention. "I'm sorry for whatever harm came to your child." Ver and Nadine's children... how old were they now? An icy chill began to creep slowly down her spine. "First of all... Ver isn't my 'hound,'" she asserted through narrowed eyes. "And second, I don't really feel comfortable saying anything on the matter until I have all the details; I didn't even know this raid happened until just now. Ver, which clan did you raid them on behalf of? And why?" She turned her head to look up at her girlfriend as she spoke, shadowy gaze boring into Ver's crimson one in a searching manner.