<div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/4491fcb8-f42f-42b6-bbd6-b1f08a1002fa.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FF40FF"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Paislee</span></span></div><br/><br/>Amused eyes carefully watched Orca as he ate, noting how much he enjoyed the food. Paislee decided that perhaps she would attempt to acquire more adequate food since she would have another mouth to feed. A small pang of nostalgia ran through her as she remembered the days when her husband would sit in Orca's spot, eating his food with a similar, but more subdued relish. For a moment Paislee fell into her own fantasy of her husband sitting across from her once more. It wasn't difficult as the scarred woman often liked to fall away into her memories.<br/><span style="color: #0040FF"><br/>"...that he cares. Not with this feast lain before his eyes..." </span>Orca's voice snatched Paislee from her dreams and she stumbled over a reply,<span style="color: #FF40FF">"Huh? Oh...."</span>He didn't seem to notice her dazed attention, fully focused on enjoying his food--if his moan of pleasure was any indication.<span style="color: #0040FF"> "This one is sure now that he has never had something this good,"</span>the creature stated with finality, causing Paislee to give a small smile.<span style="color: #FF40FF">"Ah. Yes, it is fairly delicious. Not many get to experience it, even as free people,"</span>she replied with a light voice.<br/><br/>Orca switched topics suddenly, causing Paislee to choke back a groan.<span style="color: #0040FF">"This one would like to talk about what the human said about leaving the house..." </span>he said as he took another bite of his food.<span style="color: #0040FF">"This one would like to argue that he should be brought out on any further outings, no matter how small. The way this one sees it, the human is less likely to be attacked while he is present. This one is aware of the way you humans see him..."</span>It was obvious the latter part displeased Orca, but Paislee was already nodding her head in semi agreement.<span style="color: #FF40FF"> "Yes, I know you are aware of how we humans see you, but any person who wished to spare themselves from a departing soul would be rightly intimidated of a long abused slave with a history of killing his masters--and even if your history wasn't known, your scars tell a story of their own. Do you truly expect to be viewed in any other way when neither side has been given a chance to prove otherwise?"</span>she asked as she pushed the rest of her food away, offering it to Orca with a slight tilt of her head.<span style="color: #FF40FF"> "Look, Orca, perhaps I should be more transparent with you. When I said I procure items, I mean I steal them--I steal them from New Bastiel and have for years for a variety of reasons. Bringing you along, while it would be great should I run into combat, would be terrible in trying to conceal myself. Last night was the first time in months that I had been attacked, and I was attacked by crawlers. This doesn't happen often and it is not something to worry about,"</span>she tried to explain.<br/><br/>She stood then, pouring some coffee into a cup that was neither hers nor Orca's, leaving it on the counter. Her steaming, black memorial for her husband. She then turned, putting one hand on the counter and the other on her hip,<span style="color: #FF40FF"> "I will compromise--if you can withhold the temper you have when I take you out during the day, then I will start to bring you out on my nightly exertions, assuming my chosen occupation does not offend your senses."</span>