Catulus hooks a wry smile.  He straightens his back as though dislodging a kink in it, observing Sthenae and Argentum's departure from the corner of a keen, wet eye.  Sibyl feels the warmth of his hand cradle hers; his custom when speaking with her closely.  It feels like a grail of sandstone, the kind of place one might keep a precious gem, a sliver of sacred incense, a lock of hair.<br/><br/>"If anything, this demonstrates that you will be able to resolve conflicts in a positive way."  His brow drops in deference to the sobriety of his thoughts, though his tone remains cordial, almost light.  "Seeing how we all have interacted with Galla was a fine example of the many perspectives on how to take care of a potential threat is concerned.  Argentum, with his placid philosophies.  Dionysios with his rather more ... primal approach.  Galla was a storm, and I feel the Heroes weathered her distress well.<br/><br/>"I have never been more assured that you are up to the task, or resolute at a team."  Catulus seals his statement with a nod's stamp and a steel stare.