Where there was once no animosity, bitter distaste rose with the words of the male before her. Admitting weakness, even though it was in some strange mantra, left her ill. Weakness. Sickening. Admonition of his weakness, and inexperience as well, ranked as such a high sin in the mind of the Eternian woman. Younger than he was, her beliefs called for esteem in ones own abilities. Metetztli had never said otherwise, had never told her of humility or being humble in the faces of elders. Why should she sacrifice her pride to make another happy? There was no purpose.
She grimaced. As he continued to speak, asking her a question about her choice in path, she wondered how to best get away without appearing entirely rude. Of course, it was overshadowed by her internal questioning of herself. Why not be a warrior? If this man was weak, they would need someone far more worthwhile. She pushed herself from her place against the wall, stepping toward the center of the room. "Aye did not think that Anat'ema needed me. But, if you ahre weak ahs you claim, pearaps aye ahm wrong." The words lacked feeling. Her gaze was the same. As she watched the dark male, she silently wondered what he was doing as a warrior if he was truly so weak.
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