Minerva Fairchild -  [u]The Lion's Fang[/u]

The kindness of Jamie's words brought a greater sense from Minerva in terms of her acceptance into the guild. It was difficult being one of her status and having to deal with the trivial strife and troubles of family. His acceptance of that was more of a boon than she could imagine. Nodding in agreement to wait until the return of the main group, she sat comfortably near the Guild Master to patiently wait.

Well, patiently wait until she noticed someone glaring at her from across the room. Minerva frowned at Damian, her fingertips sliding against the grain of the wood as she swiveled about to stride in his direction smoothly. Across the distance, the saunter lead her in his direction just in time for him to finish inquiring about a spar.

[color=662d91]"Well, I could always use a tempering of my sword."[/color] She began amicably, looking down towards the boy as he sat. [color=662d91]"However, the question is whether or not you can actually keep pace with me. Would you like to try to keep pace with one who is of Noble Blood? Perhaps if I win, you will tell me what [b][i]I[/i][/b] have done to [b][i]you[/i][/b] to draw your ire."[/color]