She said nothing, and the silence was like thunder. Ezekiel could see everything within her rebelling against him, even now, and knew she was a creature of pride. To be so wounded would kill someone of lesser will. What purpose would she serve now? She could not fight, or train others to fight. Her children were being raised by their grandmother and under the extra eyes of the healer-jackal. Symera was gone and with her absence, the rats had become cannibal. If she did not return Ezekiel would set the cats loose to kill them. It was better that way.
“May I sit?” He asked, making no move to do so without her permission. They had much to discuss and he could not bear to look down on her. At the very least, being a man who spoke through touch and through combat, he wanted to allow her to touch him if she wished. It was a fools desire, and he knew that she was as volatile as a summer storm, but the dreaded katana was out of her reach.
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