Giriel takes in a sharp breath. That tooth. She...ah, can you imagine a bear wrestling with a dragon? The pinpricks of teeth like little needles pricking the skin. Giriel's strong arms and stronger thighs holding the Red Wolf firmly pinned, save for those merciless teeth? 

Who could think about anything else in that moment? The sign of the demons banished from the mind. That they opposed a Hero of the Dominion made perfect sense and needed no further consideration. And if it did need further consideration, [i]which it did not[/i], wouldn't it be valuable to have someone nearby trained in the Art, able to see the signs of dark magic or hidden demons that might wish to trick, deceive, and manipulate? 

As for the N'yari. They were just territorial, and this was the sort of problem that could be solved over a good bowl of spicy noodles and a few bottles of shochu. Of course, Red Wolf had a good explanation why the N'yari were picking on her forces, but Giriel was sure she could clear up the misunderstanding, that Red Wolf would be reasonable at the end of the day about the N'yari's space and the N'yari reasonable enough about raiding caravans. They wouldn't [i]stop[/i] raiding them, but perhaps the dominion could come to understanding about how they'd raid and what was off limits. A fair way to test their skill and prowess. Okay, sure, Giriel was dreaming, the N'yari wouldn't accept being chained down (of course, exceptions notwithstanding) but they were fine in that space and she was sure she could get them to see that disturbing ghosts wasn't the way to have this fight with the Dominion and that would have to be good enough. 

But anyway, the point was, those signs in the teacup weren't important and indicated no problems with Red Wolf that would get in the way of little teeth playing across Giriel's neck and some bone-cracking cuddles. 

No, the problem as Giriel started to lose herself in thoughts of great soft beds, was the lifestyle. Giriel was a Witch, she couldn't be an equal partner to a Hero. It was written all over her. Even if she put on that gorgeous starlight dress, soft as the night sky, people would still know she was a witch. There was an aura of the otherworldly about her after so much practice, and she had no intention of dropping her work, her pleasure just wasn't nearly as important. So, of course, anything she could imagine, any games that Red Wolf was playing, it was obvious that she'd never really choose Giriel, never be more than a dalliance and a servant, no matter how skilled, strong, and respected. She just wasn't fit to be anything better than that and that was fine. It was fine. Giriel had come to terms with her status as a witch long ago and she didn't need to feel any feelings about it now. Or so she'd thought as her heart and her hands betrayed her in equal measure, as she shook in that warmth and her heart thumped and she found herself swearing by her grandmother's grave below the very mountain's roots to come back when her task was done.

[Giriel is smitten with Red Wolf, who gets a string for it. She will mark XP for swearing very seriously to come back.]