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[/html]Another sip opened her mind to more possibilities of how to handle what she deemed blatant disrespect. The German had all rights to treat his family as he pleased, but she couldn't stand for him disrespecting the deceased. Not when the deceased had done nothing wrong. Still, Cotl gave her excuses to his reasons. Izaak was stupid, he shouldn't have done whatever he did to get killed. She scowled, an ugly expression on the usually placid face of the woman.
"I don't care that you did that to him, took his fur, but don't talk about him like you do." Instead of the calm voice she had bore only moments prior, the woman seemed enraged. A quick jump from one emotion to the next. She put the alcohol back down, turning to face him with arms crossed. A condescending gaze touched her eyes, focused on his ginger fur. She expected better; perhaps she shouldn't have.
"It's disrespectful to the dead, Cotl."
Her fingers clenched to her palms, and while her anger bubbled in her gut, she didn't let it show farther than her face. She understood distaste toward deceased beings. He felt it herself, in Andrezej and others who committed egregious errors in her eyes during the Dahlian wars. But she never disrespected their memories out loud. Though she thought Andrezej was a monster, she never called him ignorant. And while Izaak had been nothing but an acquaintance, she expected the same respect from her German friend.
Without waiting for his response, she turned away, not wanting to look at him or the pelt that was spread across the bed. She wondered in silence why she had come to spend time with him; she knew the reason, but how had it gone so far from the path she had first set? All she had wanted was some physical release from her fears, and instead she had anger. Instead of a simply time of play, she was disgusted in him. She hoped he would redeem himself, but she feared he wouldn't care enough to.