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No worries, tis worth a little wait :] and yus yus, another sometime would be really excellent! I will PM!
She ate quickly, with the speed of one who knew what it was to go hungry, and the last morsel disappeared as he began to speak again. The words continued to show his intelligence, and hint at a sinister interpretation. Caspa took hold of a bicycle wheel as she listened and started to strip the spokes from the rim, gathering them into a bundle, more for something to occupy her hands than from a real desire to own the pointed metal rods. If he saw deeply into himself and did not like what he saw, this was not necessarily a reassuring circumstance. Of course, he was speaking generally and it was perhaps a universal sensation as he said, but what of the truly innocent - the good and the pure and the kind? Did they find discomfort when they looked within? Caspa did not: her conscience was utterly clear, and she knew ways to absolve herself if the need should ever arise. With his every word she found herself renouncing her former suggestion: cheered that she could re-imagine it as having been rhetorical.
The beautiful snake stared into her, as if his black eyes could melt ice, but they were cold coals on an untended fire and Caspa remained unmoved, although she still feared the lordly male, in a way she could not fathom - a righteous pilgrim had nothing to fear even from death, surely? This was not her ruler - no mortal ruled her, although she would follow the orders of her assigned leaders whoever they might chance to be, in deference to the hierarchy that her creator had instigated and caused to be the most sustainable and stable arrangement. This man was not that man: not today, and perhaps not ever. In his mouth, though, the word 'perhaps' was not framed with a question. This was a statement, and one that most probably pleased him to believe. Caspa supposed she might have been flattered, if she was the type. Instead, she felt threatened. She was no Northern survivor, despite her journeying ordeal, her icy-sharp fortitude. Caspa was a creature of another kind of badland, very far away, of sand and parched stone. She was a foreigner here, and she would always be defined by her mission, and her otherness. He could claim her in idea alone, and even this much the Afghan-bred lady resented. Still half-sitting she spun the now-empty rim of the wheel upright with an edge on the ground, so it rotated like a single-planed gyroscope. Then she let it fall, and her bleak eyes returned impassive to the impudently imposing gaze of the serpentine stranger. "Sometimes staying still is the greater challenge," was her meaningless reply. She ran her fingers around the rusted metal circlet, considering the uses of such a strong and expansive ring. Nothing sprang to mind: she'd probably leave it here. "My heart has nothing to do with my home, at least, not any longer." She had deliberately left the only place a feeling of love had ever tried to tie her to. Her judgement remained unclouded by such things. "But yes... it was lazy thought which caused our troubles. Lazy ideas of men far too eager to simplify and stereotype." She knew she was rambling away on a tangent and could hardly elaborate further to this outland King, in aspect if not in name, so she straightened, with a "Blessings upon you for your gratitude, Sirius Revlis: you've done me a good turn today, and if I can return the favour I will." But she prayed he would never ask, for she innately feared the power he thought - or knew - he owned.
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