[ She'd been leaning on the barrier so when it vanishes, she slumps a little – only to straighten up again, stiff as a startled cat when Orthrus sets his hand on hers. She's tense enough, stiff enough under his touch that even without the way her lip twists into a little scowl it's clear she's considering slapping his hand away.

Temper, temper. a little voice in her head tells her, sounding like and entirely unlike her own.

She can't really afford to alienate someone on her side – the one person, for all she knows, who is. So she lets her frustration bubble up in her head but then it simmers back down and with a sharp noise of irritation, she looks away. ]

You make it sound so easy and pretty. Giving up on what I'm supposed to do, and letting that... man get away with cold blooded murder.