[Astrid lifts her chin to sneer at his response, shifting the grip on her axe from one hand to another. There's a certain sheen to the weapon, a gleam of silver that reflects faintly off of the blue-grey of her eyes. Though perhaps not as brilliant as it was at her full power, but there nonethless.

A reminder that she's still fighting.]

And you can talk as threateningly as you want, that doesn't meam I'll be afraid of you. Never have been, and that's not about to start now.