Hearing his rough snort, dismissing her admittance that she was not as righteous as he so wrongly accused her of being, left her no need to argue back. The young woman knew very well that she was simply a creature that had been treated terribly by the Fates all her young life. Why they felt so inclined to torture her within this game called life, she had no clue, perhaps they were doing this for payback. Maybe in a previous life she had caused much pain and grief for others. For all the hardships she endured, somehow, the lupine remained to be quite a gentle soul. By all means she was allowed to be vicious to her others. Perhaps if she was then she would not have the friends or family she had now. If she shut the world out then she might have turned into someone like Frost. Although she despised the Were-Horse, vehemently, she still pitied the man. In many ways the young woman saw him, as a figure she could have been if she had gone down a different path. How sad it must be. How lonely it must be. As a male these issues must not be that much of a concern. For her, connection was important. It might be because she was a female or even her sub-species, a wolf, either way she was glad she was not separated from others. Blue-grey eyes couldn't help, but show a glimmer of pity for the one-eyed man. Taking a drink from her tea she grabbed another gingerbread, chewing on it gently. It was his abrasive tone and comment about her Father that caused a soft growl to rumble from the usual timid woman. Those stormy blue eyes narrowed, replying directly to his comment with a firm tone.
That he would even considered the very idea she would want his help in dealing with her Father was absurd. Raven did not go out of her way to look for that man who greatly instilled much pain and fear in her life. She didn't even go so far as to wonder how in the world he had survived. He was dead. He was not breathing when she took the medal from around his neck. How could he when her other half had savagely torn and ripped through his chest and throat, where it was amazing he even had his head attached to his neck! How long had he been with this Dark Hunter? Was he a partner or was he a prisoner? How could she know? Raven didn't care one way or the other about him. He was a threat to her well-being, and to her own pack! Why Frost had felt he needed to be involved or even thought he should be was quite laughable. Raven was sure the man would actually help her Father in her capture rather than keep him from her.
The mention of such a high price for assistance did not make the woman flinch. Rather her face remained indifferent, showing no sign that she approved or disapproved his offer. It was odd though. That Frost would be asking for so much money seemed, well, unusual to her. Taking a bite from her gingerbread she kept her eyes focused on him, as her mind began to wonder. Asking for money like that was something another did when they were in trouble. How many times had she been in on a business deal with Tetradore, finding out that one of their business partners was in trouble? How many times did she work the floors of the Ark, taking in bets from those that desperately needed to win? There were times when she moved through the dark alleyways of her home, seeing how some of the gang's bosses would terrify and force others to take on a deal that they would never meet. It wasn't her business and yet, she was curious. Once more the young lupine couldn't help, but feel sympathy for the Were-Horse once more. One eyebrow was raised as she gently approached the topic.
It would not bother her at all if he refused her offer. Looking down to her own gingerbread cookie, she took another bite, allowing him to yell or make some snide comment about how she shouldn't be involved in his affairs, just as he shouldn't be in hers. The she-wolf was accustomed to being talked down to or scolded at.
Was she giving him more money? Of course she was. There was one thing she didn't bring to the offering table to help curb that price tag. The night they had endured that terrible night with Calleil's Father. If it wasn't for her she wouldn't have brought him away from that hellish torture chamber. He still owed her a favor, whether he wished to accept it or not. Surely she could use it to her advantage. That night when she returned to the Ark, when her Alpha helped patch her up, telling him about her Father brought her a bit of comfort in knowing that he was aware of the possible danger they could be in. Telling him that Frost owed her a favor was something he needed to know, it was important for him to be aware, should they ever need to play that card. She wasn't quite ready to use that card, at least, not yet.