A deep scowl broke out onto Jala's features. Her eyes were trained on the retreating back of the Prince, burning with intensity, her hand trembling from the extreme amount of restraint she had been using until now. In Kynder, one would never allow his enemies to see their back--it showed weakness, indecision, and above all--trickery. Despite whether or not any of these characteristics were accurate, she still felt anger--Jala hated dishonesty, and it did nothing to quench her suspicion. Astin, next to her, leaned away and widened his eyes in a cowardly manner before finally opting to slide his chair away. His chair scraped loudly against the marble on the floor as he stood and reached a hand out--a reach for hope...for mercy. It was then that he had realized his words earlier had really done nothing but advance the potential of violence.<br/><br/>"Please, Prince!" He cried rather loudly, moving quickly and moving around the curved edge of the table, "Surely<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>don't believe the answer to this is<span style="font-style: italic">genocide</span>?!"<br/><br/>And while his actions seemed noble, as he reached out to the Prince again in a desperate manner, eyes wide with fear--it was painfully obvious to the woman next to him that he was really only appeasing the Slayer to save his own neck. She growled loudly, muttering curses under her breath in her own language. Her eyes swept across the table again, and her eyes hung briefly upon one male from the country of Cryx. Various scars upon her body singed slightly at the sight of him--but she ignored the feeling of familiarity and placed her face into the palm of her hand.<br/><br/>"No one vill stand up to this?" She muttered heatedly under her breath, shoulders shaking. This wasn't good...<span style="font-style: italic">reel it in, Jala</span>, she could hear her mentors scolding,<span style="font-style: italic">our ways of living are not accepted--anger is not the answer...</span><br/><br/>"This iz..." she continued quietly, the sound of her voice muffled by her hands, "Ridiculouz."<br/><br/>It was then that Astin tripped, making another chair scrape rather loudly against the floor. And it was then that Jala lost her temper.<br/><br/>"Oh, ztop zpewing jour empty words, Oschelon<span style="font-style: italic">dog</span>!" Jala shouted, raising from her chair and throwing her hand into a cup in front of her, causing it to fling across the room and clatter against the wall to the opposite side of the room, "He wantz to kill all ov us, and all you can think of iz your<span style="font-style: italic">own hide!?</span>"<br/><br/>Taking a deep breath, she felt relief in letting her anger out and her growing headache began to recede. "Fine, if it iz war you want, Kynder vill be waiting."<br/><br/>"...d-don't listen to her..." Astin grumbled, glaring into his more-than-once-foe, reaching into his pocket for his gun.