The most subtle of nods would be afforded the Velusian Queen, as Reinne turned her gaze towards the White Wolf, offering the man a smile - a tragic smile, the smile of a woman fighting to hold on, to survive. She was the flickering candlelight in the wind, struggling to remain ... And a raging storm was on its way. The Norseman's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched within their gauntlets, the steel offering the faintest whine as cold, grey eyes glanced to Analisa. The woman was blunt, bold and to the point - characteristics unto which Einar would normally appreciate and find worthy of respect ... however, that woman's words were turning the blade that had already been thust into the Queen's bleeding heart.
Reinne, however, was a strong woman - of this Einar had no doubt. Had she felt the need, the Queen would have silenced Analisa, would have left the woman alone in the hall and marched away to disguise the pain that was ripping her apart. But, she didn't. She stood there, she took it, and she used it. The Wolf looked down to the Queen's hand, and offered Reinne a reassuring smile. Aye, the woman was strong - even now, she was trudging on through the dark, preparing and steeling herself for what was to come.
And then, the three were moving. Analisa had offered a very valid point - to battle the devious and cunning opponent, one does not go out to meet them face to face ... for there, a dagger in the back awaits. No, to fight the dishonourable, one must set aside their own honor ... The Blackthornes would need to use guile and treachery if they wanted to survive the coming trials. They would need to lie, to cheat and to steal - to match the deadly cunning of their enemies - in order to defeat them. Yet, what did that mean? The thought came to Einar, and for but a moment the man wondered ... Until it struck him like a kick to the gut. The Blackthornes would need to infiltrate, would need to place warriors within the folds of darkness, to learn their secrets, to discover their positions ... and to strike down their leaders.
Even as Einar marched down the hall at Reinne's side, he feared what this course of action would mean. The White Wolf himself was not at all privy to the workings of the black, was well associated with the evil and darkness of the Darkthornes. Would Reinne be forced to request Einar's return to the black? Would she be forced to ask the man to go back, back to the darkness and the murder, to what Einar feared and hated most? The massive warrior found it increasingly difficult to march forwards, to head on towards the Queen's bedchamber to discuss such dark tidings. For he knew that if Reinne were to ask such of him, that if his Queen were forced to request of him such a task, he would never tell her no. He would go, he would enter the darkness without hesitation ... He would go on and face that which had haunted him for so very, very long ...
Eyes of grey steel rose to the secret passage, as Reinne opened it, a tragic smile rising to his lips. And then, the White Wolf stepped forwards, entering that dim passageway without a second thought.