"Why thank you, Vale," Daine flashed Vale a brilliant smile. It was short-lived, however, as Daine stared, emotionless, at Aingeal. She sized-up the angel, judging what she might do and all of the aftereffects. It was a cold, calculated view on life. A view Daine was used to and took very little comfort in, "I'm sure she would suffer more if we let her live." She stated flatly, in her endearing voice.

The wind picked up harshly, ruffling Daine's scarlet hair. Whipping around her head in the night wind, her hair looked like freshly spilt blood. She was the demonic leader in appearance as well as position. Devil's advocate down to the heart of her. Internally, she focused her thoughts on the angel in front of her, ignoring Vale's flirtatiousness for the moment. This angel was supposedly their leader, but at the moment, she barely even registered as a threat. Daine found this exceedingly strange.

Daine turned her head slightly to examine Yohrich. Slowly, subtly, her pale green iris' began to bleed over into the color of fresh blood. Her tail twitched angrily though her expression remained perfectly blank. She wasn't pleased with the threat to a member of her group by an unmarked, unimpressive angel.

Daine didn't recognize him and, as somebody of no rank or reputation, she didn't see him as a challenge. This only fed her anger. She wouldn't have her rank or that of her underling's questioned by some random angel. With a slow exhale, Daine's eyes changed back to their normal, unfeeling grey-green. "Make another threat, darling," Daine spoke with a cold, empowered voice that was at contrast with her completely emotionless face, "and I swear it will be your last." Oddly enough, her voice didn't sound stereotypically demonic. There was no rasp, no sticky sweetness. The tone could be more accurately compared to drowning in a frozen river.

The invitation was obvious. The silly angel wanted a fight. A fight with her. "Ha," The sound wasn't a laugh. It was a mockery of a mockery. Daine considered the angel for less than a second and her lovely strawberry colored lips spreading into a smirk, "Ha. Ha. Ha." She flickered her tail, lowering her eyelids slightly in smug humor, "I'm afraid I won't oblige, hun. You have a while to go before you're fit to challenge me. I don't take offers from nobodies."

The dare was evident. Just try it. You'll lose. The leader of the devils was rarely this insulted or this amused. Every angel was out to rid the world of her lowly self inevitably, but few actually rose to challenge her. Most expected the innocent, confused angel leader to do it. Though it seemed Aingeal was busy fighting an inner battle at the moment. In Daine's opinion, the angel was remarkably hopeful, even for one of it's kind. Fighting the right hand lady of Satan right off the bat? Good luck.

Daine shrugged as her temper drained away, "Many devils are nobodies. I've killed many of my own people. Evil is as evil does," The demon smiled, though it never reached her grey-green gaze, "I don't discriminate."

It was true enough. Daine was known to kill for nothing. Her moods were changeable and her forgiveness fickle. Approach her on the wrong day and, regardless of race, you would find your life ended. The 'crimson lady' was moody but emotionless, haughty but kind, cruel but generous. Satan's goal was never understanding and Daine was nearly impossible to understand. However, Daine thought, running a hand absently through her blood-red hair, Angels never cease with the hypocrisy. So often 'God's do-gooders' are just as evil as my devils. What lunatics.