Fenrir looked Ceannah up and down openly, though his eyes were concealed by the moon which he wore on his back. She seemed like ... nothing, to his eyes, but an attractive female. There were woman fighters, of course, and all of them believed at one point or another that this somehow made them better than the men they fought against. They were special because they worked so hard to become fighters. Fenrir always found that their hard work merely made them average. Not enough to take on a truly hardened criminal. And certainly not enough to best an assassin as notorious and deadly as those that were coming after her brother.
Women always did think too highly of themselves.
"It won't be a problem," Fenrir told him.
The opulence which surrounded him made him wonder, not for the first time, if taking a small amount of money would be such a bad thing. Then again, if he did it for money, he would be just like the ones he killed. No, best to keep things on the straight and narrow for now.
For now.
"I see a boy, not a warrior," the archer continued. "And I wonder how such a being could possibly offer enough offense to warrant a death sentence."