Children were fascinating. They were so far from death; fresh, new, blank canvases on which to write. Ah, she hadn't been ignorant to the small group that stayed inside Iromar but she had been somewhat... divorced from their conditions. At her core, she was unlike the others of Iromar; she'd not be able to keep them hungry, keep them isolated. It was unnatural to do such a thing. They were fresh. But Blackthorne had his way - though, she had to admit she was cautiously excited when she caught vision of him with one of them, one of the one's he'd kept from Aster and her companions. She knew the red marks. Once upon a time, he might have grown to be her king.
The noise she made at Blackthorne's comment was half-way between a snort and a laugh, as if he had spoken some of the most foolish words she had heard for some time. Eat them? She practically oozed forward like oil towards her clutch, head low and steps swaying as she swung her head towards Blackthorne and then towards Aspis with a look somewhere between pity and sympathy.
Then, she interjected herself between the pair; she slid against them both, felt their intermingling fur as she peeled them apart from one another.