His Omen snorted and shook that big head as if to show proof that he was big, mean and ready for a fight if it came down to it. Brute didn't have the reach of a rancor, but at a strong charge and the ability to swell even larger in size with emotion, his Omen still liked the odds.

"A Nightsister," Savage repeated, at first surprised to hear such a name spoken and then suspicion. She didn't bear the pale silvery skin and hair of the Nightsisters that he was familiar with. He snorted and an odd pull of old loyalties nudged at him. "Are you an actual stolen Sister from Dathomir? They don't let their females go easily."

The only one he knew of whas Ventress, and what a sour - but powerful - creature she had been.