The shadow-furred woman had consumed no liquor nor any other substances which lend to forgetfulness, and yet some of the weight bearing down on her was gone. She did not feel quite so desperate anymore—perhaps she had simply needed to share that story with someone. The sandy-furred man spoke again, and the woman looked over to him, her chartreuse eyes studying him. She hardly knew anything about him; what he had shared here had been minimal, at least in comparison to all of the things Eris had told him. The sable-furred woman wasn't particularly difficult to read to begin with, anyway—her emotions were plain and they bubbled to the surface often. Anyone with half an eye for empathy could discern her emotions, burned brightly into her features as clearly as if they'd been branded there.
The sable-furred woman shrugged her shoulders. “If that's all you lost, you're lucky. What happened?” she asked. “War?” she added, recalling that he had mentioned this occurrence during their very conversation. Kaena had also mentioned a war, but Eris hadn't really been listening. She was too busy watching that single eye, trying to read the answers in its solar gold. When that hadn't worked, she'd asked outright, and it had only earned her a slammed door and isolation.
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