Lowering herself back down on the log, Sybil said nothing in response, but continued to eye him curiously.  He didn't appear to be scared of her or, if he was, not to the extent others normally were.  Frowning at his question, the girl averted her eyes as she gave it careful consideration as she wondered herself what she would have done if he hadn't sprung into action when he did.  All she could remember was a blinding rage that dulled everything around her and strengthened the connection she had with the earth.

It was odd to think just the night before she had been defending these same people to her mother—trying to convince the woman that maybe the malignant were the ones who needed to change.  “I don't know,” she replied.  The first time she'd ever killed or hurt anyone was during their escape, redirecting the arrows back to their assailants; the vivid memory sent a chill running down her spine.  Eyes narrowed as she glared at an inconsequential patch of dirt on the ground while thinking about the men that had kidnapped them and killed her mother, she told him, “I would have tried.”  Whether she was successful or she would have died in the process was unknown.

Lifting her gaze to focus on him, she gave a nod.  “Our gift is fueled by the blessings of Aru and Orlana, of nature and emotion,” she told him.  “Chaotic emotions cause chaotic magic.  Love and compassion, creation.  Anger and hatred, destruction.  If I am tired-” or a state induced by poppy tears, similar as to what had been done to her after they rendered her mother unconscious to keep her from attacking, “I cannot concentrate.  My magic is either unstable or useless.”  A small smile quirking at the corner of her lips, she added, “But it does not run out and it does not tire me.  The more I use it, the more invigorating it feels.”  It would be easy to let such power go to her head as others often did.  A powerful malignant in her own right, she didn't even compare with her mother.  She needed to be better.  If they wanted to fear her, she would give them something to fear.

The sound of twigs snapping jolted her to attention.  Sybil stood, whirling towards the noise.  “What was that?” she asked, eyes flicking over at Dalious, imploring him to check it out.