[center][h2][b][color=#d31c0a]Deo’Irah[/color][/b][/h2][/center]

Freagon did his usual thing: he went silent for a couple of beats, probably assessed the situation again visually (though this was persistently difficult to confirm, owing to the fact he was a nightwalker), and moved on from whatever was said. She thought she sensed an unspoken question on the air, though she decided only to allude to it briefly.

[color=#d31c0a][b]“Hostage situations are… Decisive action is usually best taken, as the consequences tend to be easier to deal with.”[/b][/color] Irah began, taking a short breath to choose her words carefully before continuing. [color=#d31c0a][b]”You surely remember your time being affected by a Swaigh, Sir Freagon, I should think that punishment enough for these craven child-murderers… though if you wish to kill them, I cannot stop you. I simply think that if they overcome the trial before them, they might yet learn the value of the mercy they denied others… and if not, they die as they lived. Cowards.”[/b][/color] Irah explained, offering both an explanation for her callousness and her perspective at large. She truly did take particular umbrage with those who killed children–she knew it was somewhat different among the short-lived races, owing to a certain factor of mortality, but imagined the pain of losing a child cut no less deep regardless. To kill an innocent and blameless child… it was an act of cruelty and disregard for life so perverse that even a lifetime of penance and atonement would likely never make up for it. To bring Rilon’s gifts of suffering to such people was a charge she took rather solemnly–indeed, that was why she had formed her relationship with Weriz in the first place. It was why she called him “Justice”, in her tongue, something Freagon had no doubt noticed too. He’d seemed judgemental of her decision to judge others for their sins and mete out appropriate punishment… which she supposed she understood. 

Irah gave Lhirin’s shoulder another squeeze to get his attention, and nodded towards the open entrance. He’d know the look in her eyes well enough that she thought it better he survey the interior too, to see if there was anything he picked up that others might not–it happened more often than one might think. Lhirin always took the most peculiar observations from situations, though later he usually ended up cascading through a chain of logic she hadn’t considered and came to a useful conclusion she would never have been able to herself. She always enjoyed when that happened.