Cousland gives a scornful snort and promptly shifts her posture to use the zombie lump as a casual footrest, completely ignoring the fact it's very incompetently trying to eat her ankles.
"Demons are hardly the top of the food chain, all things considered. Knock enough teeth out of a Pride demon and the 'blood magic rituals complete with ominous chanting' starts getting a little mundane."
She's almost content to leave the subject be, but then there's that whole rank pulling thing (even in jest), which never sits well with someone so prickly about their pride as Cousland. Instead, that gets a sidelong measuring look, one corner of her mouth curling downwards, if only for the briefest of moments.
"Hmm. About that, actually... being dead and all, I'd daresay it's hardly fitting for a living Warden-Commander to go around flinging orders at little ol' me. You know. That finicky whole 'death by Archdemon, simultaneous assured destruction in a blaze of glory' fiasco. I'm afraid I answer to Duncan, and no other." Who just so happens to be dead and conveniently not here, thereby neatly absolving Cousland of all matters concerning the chain of command. She's quite good at shimmying out of conventional ranks when her sizeable ego is threatened.
The Warden lets that sink in for a moment or two, idly picking away at some tiny fleck of dust from her faulds prior to adding: "Might I humbly suggest asking nicely instead?"
no subject
very incompetentlytrying to eat her ankles."Demons are hardly the top of the food chain, all things considered. Knock enough teeth out of a Pride demon and the 'blood magic rituals complete with ominous chanting' starts getting a little mundane."
She's almost content to leave the subject be, but then there's that whole rank pulling thing (even in jest), which never sits well with someone so prickly about their pride as Cousland. Instead, that gets a sidelong measuring look, one corner of her mouth curling downwards, if only for the briefest of moments.
"Hmm. About that, actually... being dead and all, I'd daresay it's hardly fitting for a living Warden-Commander to go around flinging orders at little ol' me. You know. That finicky whole 'death by Archdemon, simultaneous assured destruction in a blaze of glory' fiasco. I'm afraid I answer to Duncan, and no other." Who just so happens to be dead and conveniently not here, thereby neatly absolving Cousland of all matters concerning the chain of command. She's quite good at shimmying out of conventional ranks when her sizeable ego is threatened.
The Warden lets that sink in for a moment or two, idly picking away at some tiny fleck of dust from her faulds prior to adding: "Might I humbly suggest asking nicely instead?"