"A monster...?" This genuinely gave Ridahne some pause. She knew the ways of humans and of elves when it came to combat (though she had woefully little experience with sirens in any capacity) and she especially knew the ways of beasts, as she had hunted for her family since she was just a little girl. But monsters? It wasn't so much that she felt like a monster would be out of her league, it was simply that she could not classify it. 'Monster' was a loose term and could mean any number of things. She wasn't yet sure how to prepare, but she trusted her instincts and her blades. "Monster or no," she said, her voice low. "Everything must meet its end some day or another. Death is master of all. May I be its harbinger if things go ill." One thing was abundantly clear about Ridahne: she did not tolerate being harassed and her incurred wrath would be swift upon any who had the gall to harry her or, in this case, anyone she cared about. 

Ridahne sat there like nothing was wrong. She looked completely and perfectly at ease to the casual observer, but if anyone knew her, they would see that each of her movements, even a simple reach for her mug of beer, was measured, slow, careful, and intentional. When she set the mug down, she did not let it thunk down and instead set it quietly down. She was not looking towards the door, but listening. Ridahne knew her prey would come to her--she just knew. And as a hunter she felt a certain kind of serenity in the waiting, in the patient stalking. This monster thought it was stalking her. But it was woefully mistaken. It was in this tranquility of lurking and listening that Darin kicked her shin a bit, making the elf flinch. But she finally looked up from her plate to see the group approaching. 

Her face remained impassive and perhaps even cold, though Ridahne could feel the moment she lay eyes on the lot that there was something seriously wrong. A chill touched her spine that made her want to draw her sword, to have it ready, but she did not move. [I]Steady. Hold.[/I] She could see Darin was very uncomfortable and Ridahne didn't blame her. Sweet talking people set her teeth on edge. Not only was that not the way in Azurei, it more often than not was masking some other, less pleasant subtext. Ridahne was impressed by Darin's ability to lie--that skill would keep her alive on this journey of hers, whatever it was. The man spoke to her next, and as she brought her amber eyes up to his teal ones, her violent disdain was extremely obvious. If it was possible for a person to look like a wolf, Ridahne was doing it very well. A wise man who valued his life (or his hands) would start backpedaling as fast as the space allowed, like a hunter might if he encountered a mother bear and her cubs. This man, Ridahne noted, was very unwise. 

Not missing a beat and piggybacking off of Darin's lie she growled, "You're distracting my apprentice. Get lost. Or you might end up with one less hand than you came in with." She did not raise her voice, and that was perhaps the most unsettling part. She was cold. Calculated. Confident. And just below the stony surface was a fire waiting to be unleashed. Ridahne wanted to spit at him, to curse at him and strike him. [I]Steady, Ridahne. Hold.[/I] She knew to wait for the right moment, but something inside of her was begging him to take the bait. 

[I]Try me. You'll regret it.[/i]