"The dead are danger enough," Kratos answered grimly, keeping his hand on his sword. He paced around the circle in which Valdis seated herself, checking the ground and the surrounds to his satisfaction before standing behind her. Not too close -- but close enough that he could defend her, even from threads in front of her.

Or have the advantage, in the event that she turned out to be wrong -- that he would have to fight her.

The space between his shoulder-blades itched, his wings wishing to be pulled. He tamped down on the urge to fight darkness with light. For the moment, remaining innocuous was best.