"Call thata' punch?  Been hih' harda by chillins!"  Every word is punctuated by red spittle, which probably means every word so perfectly dictated is an absolute lie, but fearful men don't advance on an enemy like she does, taking a single step forward and lifting gleaming weapons into an aggressive stance.  Then the Nalfashenee were charging the other group, and her smile disappears for a brief second.  "'ey!  We were discusseratin' over here, ye bloodin' monster-ape-pig."<br/><br/>Janna's eyes are drawn to the Priest even as she voices her dismay, whose order was given with such an imperial voice, and obeyed without question by such powerful creatures.<br/><br/>Her decision is announced with the return of her face-splitting smile, and shadows swell around her, envoking the magic of her cloak to tranverse the shadows right to the foot of the throne, and she throws her head back to stare up at the still sitting warrior-priest, hip cocked at a jaunty angle, bells tingling in her hair, hands and weapons planted firmly at her hip in invitation.<br/><br/>"Hellloooo~ Sailor."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>