Lacuna blinks, then blinks again.
She sets her mug on the side table, swallowing - staling - as she takes in what the Acanthus insinuated.
"Oh." she says lamely, frowning more at her lack of understanding then at Hamia and her admission. "Obvioysly that is not what I meant." uncomfortable, the burnette had been assuming, while obviously finding that thought...inoffensive. All the while Lacuna had been feeling the stirings of a maternal sort of protectiveness towards the Talon.
The awkwardness that could develop fails to as Hamia ploughs onward towards the topic that brought them to Lacuna's shitty motel room.
The idea proposed by the Warlock is expanded upon and driven away from the thoughts of the Hpund of the Underworld.
"Hounds of Artemis?" sound more self-important then the last crew she'd been apart of, but they'd called themselves after an intersection. "Sounds good to me." she nods, "Are we open to more members?" which is followed by "Think we should go recruiting?" if the answer is positive.