"Even more arrogant and prideful than I imagined." The old Huntress' expression was still narrowed at the sight of the woman's smirk, as subtle as it was pulling at her lips.

The disdain she had for men, even women, of such qualities was as saturating as the rainwater was. It was clear she had a vendetta, a long standing one that had pooled and settled in the depths of her soul. Certainly not unjust, as even by the standards of combat the woman before them was fortunate; they could just have easily engaged her without warning the moment her back was turned. But Sakaala was not that, not the same thing she loathed. If she were going to strike down this assassin, she would make it swift, but not without warning.

[i]"She does not appear to be very good at following instructions."[/i] The young knight's voice came as both he and steed approached, hooves clomping through the mud until he came to a halt, continuing on after about Lady Genevieve who had remained quite still where she was, drenched and cold. The leonine woman was just as drenched and cold, as were her compatriots; fair was fair.

A deep breath expelled itself from her flaring nostrils as she eased some, keen ears listening as he continued on;

"... would it not be simpler to have Ajax just crush the thing in his hands? He definitely appears capable of such a feat."

She would have disagreed, but Diagorides had already done so before she could speak. Wizardry, especially its darker forms, seldom was so easily destroyed by force alone without enacting some terrible form of revenge. Losing his hands was perhaps the least such a thing could do, but the beast-woman was certain some sort of curse related to the thing was far, far more likely. It could be subtle or bombastic in its presence, but any circumstance was bound to come with ill tidings.

"You, like most of your lot, speak too much on things that do not matter." She withdrew the sword, holding it in a place of calm within the stronger of her two sizable hands.

Neither her eyes or words left the woman as she picked and pecked through the rubble, searching for the enchanted trinket. She did not dare make an offer to find it, as easily as her inborn magic could have; she would let the woman do the work the hard way, leaving Diagorides to help her if he so wished. The woman had lost any respect that the ranger could have had for her and it begged her, truly so, to just finish her earlier hunt and be done with it. Yet, for all of her animal qualities, she was [i]not[/i] an animal.

Isabeau had indeed answered the question, sparing her life. For now.

Great pawed feet turning, she left the huge man with a look, an expression that suggested nothing but disdain for this "witchling". 

"Do not hesitate to kill her if need be." She continued after her brief moment of pause, "Not that I doubt you would."

With that, she passed by the Edessan knight upon his steed, proving to kneel beside the unconscious figure that lay so unceremoniously in the wet grass and pounded by rain. The tatters of her robe dirtying themselves, she began to tear asunder a sleeve of the fallen wizard with a claw; the razor-like sharpness of the talon tearing through it with an audible ripping of fabric. It only became more clear that the scarred beastly figure did not carry manacles or anything of the sort.

She was a hunter, through and though...

... and hunters do not capture their quarry.

[@ArenaSnow][@Belwicket][@IcePezz][@Jon Y][@vietmyke][@Zero Hex]