Casae lifts a shoulder with a smooth motion to let the strap of her spear slide off and follow along the crook of her arm until able to capture the shaft of the weapon within her grasp. The pole arm lifted and set to stand next to the dragoon and allow her frame to slump backwards slightly; resting herself upon one of the walls while listening to Constance and the others. “Protection of the crystals, above all else.” she echoes the Nun’s sentiment on the value placed on protecting the objects of faith by the kingdoms; with a faint distaste laced into the words.<br/><br/>Sweep of the Elvaan’s gauntleted hand upwards to tug the visor of her helm back into it’s raised position; revealing the delicate features of the stern faced spear woman within. The grasp of the dragon-scale styled armor giving way to the soft flesh of the one dwelling within it - a representation of the balance that rested on the tip of a blade that all warriors struggled with. Casae felt more comfortable within the confines of her armor, but some respect held for the sanctity of the sanctuary - even if her words held an edge of hostility towards the legends of faith.<br/><br/>“What they went though. Likely strife and heart ache - the things that are lost in telling of legends.” the woman quirks up in response towards Constance and Kira. Pensive glance upwards at one of the windows to watch the rain batter against the surface.<br/>