The scene played itself out like a memory, his irritation and bluster all too familiar to her. How many times had her brother tried to deter her in such a way? When he decided he too knew what was for the best? It was a very unique, very particular feeling of compassion and frustration; two people, two elemental forces put continuously at odds.
It informed her opinion of the man before her, but not for the worse. Like a Nifleheim soldier pointing its gun at her, Lunafreya moved to nudge his accusatory finger away. It was a gentle action, but direct too.
"I appreciate your candor," and in some regards that was true. Like Ravus, she could respect his opinions but not quite relent to them. "Your words are honest, and it seems as if you have good intentions toward helping your people. That is enough for me, but..."
She shook her head. Luna had never felt as though she had been able to get through to Ravus. Perhaps at the end of things—but she doubted at her odds for convincing this man of much. However, she was stubborn and relentless enough to at least make an attempt anyway.
"You're wrong on one account at the least," she said. "You aren't alone in your efforts or intentions. If events truly turn out as you say, and you find yourself in a compromised position," she gestured to the dog, "call upon Umbra, and the messenger will come to you."