<i><span style="color: Orange">“You really do promise you mean no harm to any of us? Everyone is scared of you.” </span></i><br/><br/>W'ineton rolled her eyes and rubbed her hands together, peering the young bird up and down as she wondered at what age it must be.<br/><br/><b>''It seems my name has been turned to something evil, twisted and forged into fairytales as a warning for the young. Little child, your parents were afraid of me because of the change I was stirring in our society. I have no idea of what tales have been told about me, my child, but I've never dropped a feather of the skin of my own kin. It must have been forgotten or pushed aside, that the fact is, all I've done to be cast out of the Vimini tribe, has been to protect it. Against those that wanted to destroy it, but it seems I've been 80 years too early with my predicaments. Nevertheless, little one, I will not lift a finger on this ship, not for or against the benefit of your people. I promise. ''</b><br/><br/>W'ineton stood up from her kneeling position and heard the objections against her staying on this ship with deaf ears and a raised chin. Her entire posture was of that of a proud woman that was used to take a verbal beating. Nevertheless her words had been changed, and the version of the woman in Hunth was replaced by a more modest and articulated one. One of the key elements was that she was not using her usual cursing tongue when she spoke to the others. Biting her lip softly, she followed Darion down, fighting back the tears that were choking her up. Nobody could stay unaffected to such a welcome of her own family after 80 years, especially not after losing a life she had built for the second time. Only one who had a keen eye, and could see pas their rage and blinding hate would be able to see the struggle the woman was fighting inside of her mind. Winnie was glad they hated her so much, that way they wouldn't see her vulnerability.<br/><br/>Her nails were digging inside of the soft flesh of her hands, as her gloves had been burned and charred away up to her wrists. She could feel a small trickle of blood dripping down the little scabs she made, splattering on the floor of the cabin as she looked around and formed her second impression of the human before her. He seemed to be everything she once wanted to be. A fighter, a protector of her people that was more practical then traditional. The mere fact that he refused to use the cabin alone was making the woman respect the human more then he would ever know she would. She did not like him, not because of his ways, not because of the pang of jealousy that he had achieved what she never could, but because he seemed to be so like what she once was. What she still hoped she had not lost, although the world had changed her in ways no person should ever experience.<br/><br/>Her eyes were still darting around the room with a soft look about them, showing her respect and wonder to the strange new revelation about the man. Until she heard the pulling of chairs and his eyes upon her as offered her to one across his table. Her face hardened once more, the softened blue of her eyes turning to ice as she looked upons Darions face and mulled over his words.<br/><br/><b>''The Kaiser does, and he has destroyed my home, my life's work, and seemingly my birthplace as well to have me explain something to him. One of the oldest demonic beings of this world is out to hunt me down and bring me to his feet. So to answer your qeustion, I do believe in prophecies. Only because they are often enough self-fulfilling rather then truly a feat of divination. ''</b><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>