[@ineffable][@Cuccoruler][@Thinslayer][@rush99999]

Kaite pressed the damp cold rag to her face, covering an eye as the other watched the newcomer who had so simply been allowed into the camp by Tiberius's pathetic knightly honor. Though her thoughts had aught speak for themselves as she soaked in the tattered rags laden with her own blood. Poor as the roster was, it was set, and accepting newcomers as degenerate as the slag who introduced herself as 'Morefindiel Vanarys' was worthy of a scoff which the black knight withheld. 

Business within the group was a silent sport, and good leaders knew when to strike enemies as well as those that presented themselves as friends. With that notion, Kaite wiped the damp cloth across her face before placing it over their other eye. To her other side, the beast among ranks, 'They-who-I-know' tentatively tried on the ring they were given.
A thought at first accented with raised eyebrows curiously detailed an expression as the otherwise large ring for the old elf's fat fingers shrunk to constrict around Vert's. It was likely better that way, having a shackle on a beast. Kaite only hoped that the undead Eru possessed enough judgment to know what was held in their infernal trap.

As if the incentive of betrayal from their life-companion wasn't enough, the sight of the ring claiming 'They-who-I-know's finger tured Kaite's eyes to her discarded gauntlet. Somehow having worked its way over the plating in the process, the ring sat snugly against the metal of the right ring-finger. More than a simple branding iron, Kaite had now seen the rings to be a catalyst for which this spirit could invade the prime material plane.
Kaite knew her next wish, though had no motivation to reach out to the gauntlet. In some dark recesses, she hoped the soul of Eru was tasked with dealing with the deus ex machina that the name of its host held.

- - -

[color=a187be]"Don'y worry, here. I'd gut ya cold bu'fore y'could stop us"[/color] Kaite chirped, accompanied with a shallow chuckle, echoing with The Storyteller. A palpable moment passed where she narrowed her eyes at 'They-who-I-know' before frowning in a dismissive manner on one side of her face as if to express disappointment. True, though mostly because Kaite's paranoia was unrequited by both those who she was forced to be comrades with as well as this creature whom she was expressly encouraged [i]not[/i] to trust. It didn't sit well with the 'Knight-in-name' Kaite, who slew beasts wearing men's skin for a living.

[color=a187be]"Yeh neh...welcome to tha family"[/color]  She continued with a pained chuckle and a dismissive wave, her free hand scratching at her fingers like an addict, feeling naked without the gauntlets she loathed to don. [color=a187be]"Beast er not...[i]hrrnnff!-[/i]"[/color] Kaite growled as she fought to lift herself to an elbow. [color=a187be]"-I saw wacha did...an I'm sure y'got room for th'plenty we're ta'face"[/color] they continued with a forced smirk that seemed almost discontent, though accepting none the less. It would, after all, be hypocrisy for a monster welcome to the champions to reject another monster.

A soft inhale brought the sickly sweet scent of game blood and renewed coals to Kaite's senses. Tilting her head back to sight the source, the knight's heart sank as she saw the small elf from before. She seemed to be handling the carcass of a deer, and good for her, somehow managing to fell a swift beast and retrieve it in record time.
[color=a187be]"Such are the knife-ears..."[/color] Kaite quietly sighed with a commical edge as she fought her way into a kneeling position, figuring that laying prone encouraged sloth. Watching them for a while, the knight wondered what kind of stomach the seemingly innocent elf had for actually gutting the beast. Viscera was no stranger to the knight, and every inch of Kaite cried out to offer assistance, though she would just as readily stand by and wait for a moment of falter before offering her hand.

[color=a187be]"Y'got that, Lilly?"[/color] Kaite shamelessly called to the elf, having completely forgotten her name. [color=a187be]"I got y'set-a hands, roit. Though y'wilds wo'need em, though~"[/color] the deceptively old knight chuckled in a teasing manner, cracking her knuckles as she warred with her stamina to remain composed after the blood loss.
Darkly, she growled to Gorman out the side of her otherwise friendly grin, [color=a187be]"Help m'stand. Make et'convincin'."[/color]