"Be honest... has Shar ever actually rewarded you for your devotion?"
Another little piggy nose sniffing its way into her business, the business of her own goddess no less. She gives the other a prickly glare, her quiet dinner now unequivocally ruined by such a forthright intrusion into her faith.
"Those who join Her forces for the mere promise of reward do not deserve to stand before Her." A tactical avoidance of the question. She'd see fit to leave it at that, but Rakatak's pressing gaze squeezes her, and more trickles out before she can stem the flow.
"I am not a dog to be trained. Waggling a treat does nothing but belittle my own devotion." Angrily, she stabs at a cube of meat, watching the glaze of it glisten by the firelight.
"… patience. That is what will be rewarded, and I — I believe it is not my time yet." Her appetite is waning, and she isn't sure if she can stomach much more of this, food or otherwise. "She isn't really the giving type. At least, not when it comes to rewards. I have yet to receive something so precious."
A quick glance to her right hand. No, Lady Shar does seem to give a lot. Shadowheart receives much of her generosity every day; it is drilled into her very flesh.