"I'm not sure you're saved," he said then realized she was probably in no mood for him being a smartass.  He sighed.  "Because when you turn an enemy into an ally, you not only weaken your enemy but strengthen yourself."  He looked away from her, perhaps for the first time when addressing her, "And, perhaps, because outcasts sometimes feel like other outcasts can understand them."  He looked back at her, daring her to challenge his assertion.  He knew it was a bad line of reasoning - outcasts were made for many reasons and there was no reason to think there was any similarity between them - but he was cruel to himself before he was cruel to other people.  He cultivated brutal self-honesty as a survival trait.<br/><br/>"No, they wouldn't," he said, crouching down next to her, his elbows on his knees.  "Not from me, anyway.  They're cynical about my motivations, and they're right, and that would just look like a mating of convenience.  It wouldn't fool them.  It might insult them.<br/><br/>"But we can't really stay here, either.  We can get a breather, but we should keep moving.  There is a place I know but... it's not a fair land.  We can hide there a while.  The atomic spirits protect it from the witches and werewolves hesitate to go there, for that matter, unless on a war party. So, I'm pretty sure it's secret.  But if we stay here, we'll die.  Sooner or later we'll be seen and they'll be after us.  This is death ground, Vara."<br/><br/>In his mind, he recognized that all ground might be death ground for Vara.  She could run, but without a home or a pack... it was a hard road.  Exiles rarely lasted more than a few months in the wilds.