<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: #FFBFFF"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Paislee</span></span></div><br/><br/>Orca seemed, at least, willing to cooperate for the time being. Though, it was not without warning,<span style="color: #0080FF"> "Very well. I'll obey for now human, if only to find out what your true intentions are... But take heed, human. If I find you to be anything other than what you claim to be, I'll rip you apart without hesitation, and then I will consume you." </span><br/><br/>He stood, holding out his arms expectantly and Paislee unshackled him. The shackles fell to the ground between them, and there was a sense of relief for Paislee. She was nervous, but she felt that was only natural. Orca was a fighter--he had probably killed others before. She did not wish to be on the receiving end of his ire.<span style="color: #0080FF"> "I've often wondered if these metal cuffs would become a part of my flesh. I'm glad to see that isn't the case,"</span>Orca admitted as he raised his arms up, his eyes filling with anger as he inspected his flesh.<span style="color: #0080FF">"We should leave, this place fill my heart with rage..." </span>he stated, clenching his fists and turning to Paislee. She only gave a small incline of her head.<br/><br/>As the two of them walked at a rather slow place, Orca had collapsed a few times. Paislee, unable to really think before action, had tried to help him up--only to be rewarded with threats by Orca's wounded pride.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Keep your hands away, human, less I rip them off and beat you with them..."</span>he said as he forced himself to stand. Paislee gave a wry grin,<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"It wouldn't be the first time." </span><br/><br/>With that, they continued to walk, eventually making it to Paislee's home just as the darkness of night had taken over. Her home was in a rather large building, and the building was all hers. It was towards an abandoned part of town--a part of town that had been attacked three years prior. The attack had put most of the area in ruins and fear into the hearts of citizens...but not Paislee. She had stayed, she had repaired most of the damage to her home, and in that she gained a rather large abode.<br/><br/>Paislee stood at the entrance of the building, the metal door mocking her as it did every time she approached. She gave a small sigh, pulling a few keys out and unlocking multiple dead bolts. The large door gave a groan, upset at Paislee's return it seemed. She looked down at the ground for a moment as she wondered when the last time she had let anyone in her home, and with a heavy heart she realized she hadn't since her husband's death in the attack.<br/><br/>It was silent for a moment and everything was still. Paislee gave a small swallow as she tried to push down her anxiety. She didn't turn to Orca, though she spoke softly to him,<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"Please don't touch any of my husband's things." </span>With that, she pushed the door open, blasting the two of them with a welcoming fragrance of stew. Paislee had put some in a crock pot of sorts in the morning. She had forgotten about it.<br/><br/>As the two walked in, Paislee took off her boots, wiggling her toes and moving along towards the kitchen.<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"Feel free to sit where ever you like,"</span>she called out to him as she rummaged around. As she looked for the med kit she kept in her kitchen, she couldn't help but have a little worry about Orca touching things. She knew it shouldn't be a big deal, but she had expended a lot of effort into fixing her home  back to the way it was before her husband had died. Even his keys were put back in the small bowl kept at the door.<br/><br/>Paislee wasn't crazy, she knew he wasn't coming back--but she simply wasn't ready, and likely never would be, to accept that he was gone forever to begin with. Her home had been in a permanent hiatus, it seemed, waiting for a man who no longer existed. His favorite chair always remained empty, his favorite cup was always filled with coffee in the morning, his pictures with her littered the scarred walls and surfaces. Paislee didn't even sleep on his side of the bed. It looked strange to have such normal things in the home when it was clear a war had been waged.<br/><br/>The walls and floors had a variety of burn marks, shrapnel was embedded deep into the wall, and patches where it was obvious larger holes had been repaired. All of the furniture looked like it had been reupholstered and some of the frames of the pictures looked as if they had been repaired or replaced as well. The pictures within the frames, however, looked worn and singed--they were pieces that Paislee had no hope of replacing or repairing. She couldn't afford that and it had taken her a very long time just to fix what she had.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBFFF">"Ah ha!" </span>she exclaimed in victory. She had finally found the med kit. She came out towards the living room and couldn't help but be relieved at the fact she had such high ceilings. The poor sea elf, otherwise, would have been very cramped.<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"May I tend to your wounds?"</span>she asked politely, holding up the med kit.<span style="color: #FFBFFF">"I promise we can eat after..."</span>