<span style="color: darkred">"Hatred and fear are just emotions, flavors of the mind, if you will."</span>Crimzon sat down against the wall and let her blade rest beside her, despite the number of chairs in the room the sentinel never actually used them.<span style="color: darkred">"She said she only became The'kal's priestess after the raid on Astranaar, she's been a high ranking priestess for almost thirty years before that. I'll do some more research on it later, but I don't think she was lying, if she can truly channel the power of a goddess there's not a whole lot either of us could do to really threaten her." </span>For a moment it almost would have appeared if the emotionless sentinel cracked a smirk.<span style="color: darkred"> "A week? Since I've known you you've had nothing but exhausting days. Perhaps you should consider hiring more help? That Naga you allow in the temple has proven to be surprisingly sharp but doesn't have much in the way of healing abilities, she's useless as a priestess but could be a boon to your work. Not to mention she's a mage and their kind is always useful. I don't need your help, I've gotten over it already." </span>She stood up and walked over to Tyrande's file cabinet and pulled a file.<span style="color: darkred"> "He's booked your entire day... and left a note saying he won't be around until late." </span>Shaking her head she replaced the folder and returned to her spot on the ground.<span style="color: darkred">"He likes you. I'm curious to see what he's going to ask of you... perhaps your hand in marriage? I'm sure you'd have just adorable children." </span>The natural coldness in Crimzon's voice made it hard to tell if she was serious or trying to be playful.<span style="color: darkred">"Red haired Night Elves with tusks flicking around daggers and throwing spells. Then sitting around all night brooding until they fell asleep."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>