[Fighting off the urge to cross her arms wasn't easy. Not because she wanted her body language to display her displeasure (that was hardly necessary), but because she wanted to be free to flow into a fighting position should she need it.

Under a stern brow, her baby blue eyes flicked from Amon to Naga and back again; though she said nothing on it.]

It doesn't hurt your chances. [Though she did finally blink.]

In the future, dark spirits attack the South Pole during the Glacier Spirits Festival.

[A deliberate pause before she continued.]

When the Chief of the North is there.