She doesn't have the answer for his question about the river so she just shrugs gently, letting the question flow over her. It could go either way, really, and sneaking up on a nest of vampires wasn't exactly the time to fall to deep contemplation. Later, maybe, when the dead were at rest as they should be. Maybe not.

"Maybe if he mattered. Maybe if his crimes called for it. The violence is there, but his body called for a real death more than I was inclined to indulge in that kind of ugliness and monstrosity."

And that's that. The show wasn't exactly a show, maybe. Maybe more tipping her hand and finding herself surprised but not shocked by the cards. Or some other convoluted metaphor that means M- knows she's capable of being a monster, but chooses to save it until the right time. Like when they actually get to the house of the undead.

His words pull her out of her revery, and leave her with an impish smile. "We'll certainly see, though I admit you do seem to have stealth down to an art."

She pulls her hair back up, not wanting it to get in the way of her sight, even though it reveals more of her pale skin that tends to shine even in low light. Her footsteps become impossibly quiet on the path as her focus narrows down and her senses strain to pick out the first sign of the nest they are about to disrupt.