Genuinely relieved to have seen an end to at least one person's suffering today, the glorified bandit would be lying if they said the response from the monster hadn't been contagious. Kaite chuckled, half listening to the storyteller explain everything be under control.
Aethereal golden threads bound their beast's jaws shut. Vile as the abominable animal was, it was theirs through extension of its services which had resulted in the preservation of Tiberius. While mindless goons could be 'sicced' , it took a mind and soul to look past design and place in the world in order to take initiative. It was admirable enough for Kaite to upgrade the demon-in-woman's-skin with her retort.

[color=a187be]"Moind y'hopes, Miss Hein..."[/color] Kaite sighed with a wink, an elvish term referring to them simply as 'they' with an addressal that, in Common, could have almost been seen as formal and respectful. For anyone versed in elvish etiquette, the past-tense nickname instilled an apathy for their existence and refusal of calling them by their name; A step up, but 'someone I knew' was hardly an improvement from 'they who I know'.

For a degenerate like Kaite, [i]remembering[/i] someone is about as high of praise as she was capable, regardless if she knew your name. It wasn't to say she didn't know Vert, but that names were cheap.

Ice blue eyes looked up at the Storyteller at first before she made to stand, the hiss of Tiberius who was adamant in insisting his lack of social connection to Finn.
Kaite paused, eyes fixed on the knight and in the process of being about to take another sip if she hadn't found more delight in how he cut himself off from speaking how he truly felt about her. Regardless of the next person who spoke, Kaite was knowingly fascinated in the idea of what nearly escaped the true knight's lips. Many could define such notions as sociopathic, the Black Knight being flattered to the mildest of blushes that an individual like Tiberius would break character to insult her with such bold language.

A toothy grin rose to her expression, lips parting to reveal the evidence of how being swatted away by the sorcerer had caved a few teeth in.
Regrown as silvery ink-black fangs, especially with her right-side canines which suffered the brunt of the edge of her shield caving in her helmet. At this point, the fragments of armor had repaired themselves along with mending the woman who, with the blackened scar of a once sliced-open lip betrayed their expression.
The cruelty of her statement aside, Kaite was elated that Tiberius was one of the few she could allow to stand up to her...and so his words silenced the beast.

However, it was unfortunate how he let small things like other's opinions get to him, and her expression quickly faded to genuine shock as he picked himself up and simply left.

[color=a187be]"S-Sir Tiberius!"[/color] Kaite called after him with a tone that was actually pleading, noting his lack of response and lifting herself to stand. While she hadn't been too invested in Ivan's disappearance, anticipating his reasoning being his own or someone else's, events had lead to her suspecting herself as being a cause for his leave...although...
__________________________________

Kaite stood, watching Tiberius storm off. It wasn't unlike the other times where she would argue with compatriots to stay after their personal morals tested their resolve.

It was different, this time...
There were reasons...
And reasons need be addressed.

Kaite slowly looked over her shoulder at the home-wrecker, Finn, and then to the [i]goons[/i] that had manifested. Their garb and demeanor meant nothing to the woman who had only tonight seen the face of the sorcerer and been properly engaged in such politics.
Slow clapping, pathetic arrogance and some nobody named 'Edward' spoke of how nobody was in danger. It was all the excuse Kaite needed to noisily snort and hock a bloody lugie into the fire as she walked past the scene and tossed her wineskin into the pile of the rest of her crap. With a small stumble, she planted herself onto a log by the fire and took a deep breath as she inspected the clutter of her armor which laid clean as though expecting her. 

[color=a187be]"Nothing!"[/color] Kaite barked at Edward once more to snuff out Lilly without turning her head. [color=a187be]"Y'came for ya mistress. Now take the [i]sow[/i] b'fore she accuses an'one else a' theft!"[/color] her words continued with a bitter edge, implying she had swiftly ran out of patience and had better things to do...an accurate assessment of her current disposition as her hands trembled before grabbing one of her boots and slapping the dirt from her feet before beginning to don the abyssal mantle once more.

Standing to affix her chest and backplate along with greaves which the belting greedily lashed itself into place by itself as to make record time of the process, the Black Knight grit her fangs, looking into the beaked helmet. Swaying at first, the northerner snapped back to her senses and caught herself enough to make the motion look like she was turning with authority back to the new group. Helmet in one hand, she stared holes through 'Edward' before lifting an eyebrow.

[color=a187be]"Take...'er? The c***? Y'not gett'n a boit, 'ere"[/color] Kaite growled, lifting her arms to the sides in an exasperated shrug as if her intended audience was daft, wobbling a few steps through the clearing to wrench her gear from the mud and brush. Regardless of appearance of intoxication, she performed with purpose...like a barbarian rather than a knight...a [i]drunk[/i] barbarian at that...a drunk barbarian with a limp.
Stabbing their shortsword into the shield-sheath with a grinding [i]'clink'[/i] of locks before fixing the set to her arm, Kaite threw the even more tattered cloak back around herself before turning.
A bit of wavering and grunting from blood loss and the wine making the endeavor a bit more than it needed to be, Kaite looked down at her free left clawed gauntlet.

As badly as she would have sword never to give in, it was like second nature to need the nameless metal. Like how the body needs skin, she felt raw and naked without it. It gave her power...and some disgusting perversion of focus that was accented when she threw the mesh of plate and mail over her head. The visor possessively snapped into place and Kaite jerked from her wavering slump into an upright and imposing arbiter of malice the once was, even with most of her attire stained in her own blood.

Slowly, she turned back to the group, looking over to the newcomers for a few seconds and then back to the rest.
[color=a187be]"I am going...to get...Sir Tiberius..."[/color] She calmly announced, pulling the ragged hood over her helmet. Stillness met her feet after the rigidity forced her back into its powerful stance. As little of a woman as she morally presented herself to be, something about the armor made her seem tall...oppressively so.
[color=a187be]"[i]an'[/i] Sir Stonewaller..."[/color] Kaite added, probably stalling at this point as she was personally terrified of the next step which she took after everything was considered. Regardless, the armor was more than willing to aid her will as it flourished an amber haze for a moment before coming out clean, drawing in the bloodstains from her attire and rippling across its surface.

Kaite strode across the clearing, making it clear that she was done talking or caring about the rest of the drama in the camp.
She had hunted down deserters in the past. The only difference, this time, was that the group relied on the quarries being brought back [i]alive[/i] and [/i]unharmed[/i] for security to be ensured.