[ Ate, for her part, does not speak. (Nor does she stand upon both feet, yet. She scuffs her toes, one foot hooking itself about the ankle of the other.) Instead, she sighs, the breath carried under the words of her two companions. In that breath are a multitude of questions and doubts — the beginnings of madness, the clouding of one's judgment and reason. She has no doubt that Belial is mad already, and as such, a little of him falls into her own domain. It's her hope, now, that she'll be able to turn that foot in the door into something more fruitful.
If not, then she will fight, hellfire be damned (and no pun intended). Slight though she may be, she takes after her siblings in at least that one respect: she can hold her own in a brawl. ]
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If not, then she will fight, hellfire be damned (and no pun intended). Slight though she may be, she takes after her siblings in at least that one respect: she can hold her own in a brawl. ]