Re: The Cat: Rae and Kratos
Rae on the other hand could parse the disturbance someone divine caused - which extended, naturally, to those who were not nearly so fortunate to be fated so, but not the true texture of what it was they were. Or who, it had to be said. She could reach, but reaching past a curtain so many times drew the danger of dislodging that curtain and she'd no inclination to reach too far for the power required to know all that Freya could know.
She'd no immediate inclination to kill the very large man, but she didn't think it impossible should she. Nel would manage, without ruffling her seemingly constant cool. Rae might have to ruffle, but she thought it possible. There were few who could not be killed, and should not fell within that category. Fenrir, for example.
She was still working an inch down her glass while he tossed back watered wine as if it were - well. Water.
"Yours and the Norsewoman." English, this time. He'd dwelled on the wife, and it seemed parentage was enough not to question the parentage. "What was she?" But he asked a particularly blunted question and Rae offered a smile like the promise of water in a desert.
"Do I look as though I ought?" It was the flitter of steel at the back of her tongue. Rae didn't care for being described as maternal.