He paused, letting the words settle.
"If you want to use animal metaphors, Harwick, then consider this: a dog that has never been shown anything but loyalty and has responded with nothing but loyalty in return is not a threat. The threat comes from those who would treat a loyal creature with cruelty and suspicion, thereby creating the very problem they claimed to be preventing."
From her position further down the table, Reverend Witch Mother Oceana had been listening to this debate with an expression that was difficult to read.
She was an old woman with the collective power of the witch spires behind every word she spoke in official proceedings.
She had been in the battle too. She had faced Shaewyra on the cliffs, a conflict whose details she had declined to share with the Ministry's after-action report.
She carried no visible injuries, but those who knew her well had noted a certain quality of strain in her bearing that hadn't been there before.
