<strong>~Iellwen~</strong><br/><br/>The slightest hint of a sneer curled her shapely dark lips at the sound of the male's objection, though her pale eyes did not rise from their focal point upon the cold stone floor. Instead she gathered all her information about what was happening before her from the movement caught in her slightly obscured peripheral as well as the sounds and scents that accompanied them. Observation was one of her strong points, as it should be given the rank she held within the house, though only in one circumstance did it ever fail her, and that situation she usually avoided lest her shortcomings be used against her.<br/><br/>Now, so positioned before her Ilhar (Mother) in a manner no one else would ever warrant from her, she remains almost eerily still. As if the very stone beneath her had crept into her blood and bones to hold her riveted there while the Matron spoke. Only the subtlest rise and fall of her chest could give away the fact she lived, though it would take a trained eye to see it. This guise of still life, however, was broken once her Matron finished speaking, and the dark drowess raised her head a fraction to regard higher upon Gwindolyn's well toned and shapely legs. In so doing she saw the male, his expression of malcontent obvious upon his features though he thankfully was silent now. The coppery hint of blood that wafted to her delicate nostrils gave a little more feral glint to her glacier eyes, but nothing more as she responded to Matron Gwindolyn in her normal purring voice, velvety and dark with unspoken promises.<br/><br/>"Good... I look forward to a little excitement, its been too long since my blades have whetted themselves upon the flesh our our enemies, and I daresay they hunger for it now." Her gaze locked upon the jaluk as she watches him stiffen, perhaps thinking that she would be so bold to use him in a manner so opposite that of her mother. She pays the motion no heed though while canting her head a little to peer upwards more though the shock of crimson tipped bangs that fell so before her eyes. "I will station those of the keenest eyes in appropriate places.. and request smaller less noticeable ones to be vigilant for anything out of the ordinary.. while I rotate the training of our troops as you request."  Suddenly her gaze drops to the floor where pinkish foam puddled and dissipated around Matron Gwindolyn, though she appears not to see it, as thoughts race through her mind. "Perhaps I shall devise other manners of greetings for our 'guests to be' that they would not expect... " She mused more to herself than to her mother, her voice going down to a low purring-growl that seemed to fill the room with its husky tone, only to be discarded as she once again snapped her attention to her Ilhar. "I will need Lloth's favor.. and the hands of a skilled sorcerer... Can you bestow these upon me Ilhar?"