Even though she carried the Mark of the Dark Lord on her own arm and it had been placed there by her choice, she continued to find it odd that the dangerous men she surrounded herself with had the capacity for more than just violence and degradation. Years locked up in Azkaban hadn't even dulled their most inane human appetites. Were they all simply moving through life desiring nothing more than just the opportunity to connect on a deeper level with another? She remembered believing anyone who would even consider becoming a Death Eater must have had no soul and only an appetite for mayhem. Understanding that no one was wholly good or wholly evil was still a concept she struggled with.