Hana didn't move the baton. If anything, she pressed it a fraction closer to the Elder's throat. She looked at the Chief, seeing exactly the kind of man Raiden had described—a traditionalist who hid behind 'sacred' laws to mask his own cowardice.
"I don't care about your family drama or your Ravine," Hana said, her voice clinical and cold. "And I'm not the one being used. Raiden is mine, which means your tribe has a debt to me for how you treated him. You're going to open the Iron Cave, or I'm going to let my dragon turn this 'sacred' forest into a charcoal pit while I test just how much voltage a nine-tailed Chief can actually take."
"Are you threatening me?" He asked with a growl, his tails fanning out and Hana noticed an unusual mist erupting from their tips.
