[@Fetzen][@Konan375]

[u][i][b]
Rozalind and XIII and Vaughtar [/b][/i][/u]

Rozalind noticed XIII’s flash of anger, but respected him when he choice to remain silent about it. It was tacky in TRIDENT to ask about anyone’s past. His past and his anger belonged to him. She had plenty of her own to carry as well. 

She flexed the fingers on her wounded arm, mirroring his action unconsciously. 

That is when Vaughtar spoke up. Rozalind narrowed her eyes and openly glared at him through his entire speech. Then rolled her eyes when once he walked out the door. She huffed and walked over to a punching bag. Her wounded arm wasn’t in a sling any longer, but it was still wrapped up in tape. She continued to open and close her fist experimentally. She touched the bag with her knuckles, but didn’t strike it yet. 

“Yes, definitely necromancy. The symbols were written in blood and everything.”