When Risa looked at Amos, one could see the depth of countless years in her eyes. Rage and joy, love and hate, ecstasy and despair... for a moment those were visible in the shimmering green. "Do not be tempted by a pretty face, love. You can be trapped that way." Her eyes searched his, acutely aware of his own eyes. The blue awoke the slight hunger for magic that always lingered in her gut.<br/><br/>Then she blinked when he asked about her wounds. "Scourge Abomination." she murmured, leaning her arm on the bar to support the weight of the owl on her wrist. His claws scraped against the fresher scars, but other then a slight sense of momentary discomfort, she showed no sign. "I was one of countless fighting the Lich King. I was also one of the countless targeted for... processing." One hand absently ran around the curve of Master Nobles face, her fingers teasing the down feathers in a way she knew many birds enjoyed. It was obvious that from the misty look in her eyes that she wasn't aware of her actions. She was lost in a memory, as many who were older tended to do.<br/><br/>"I was bitten while fighting in Zul'Drak. It was before the Cataclysm, but the wounds have yet to heal. I felt it when the Lich King fell, though. I felt it in my bones. It's almost a Fel thing, knowing things from the creatures who so wish to control you. I felt such terror- the processing is a horrible thing. They kill you slowly, rip out your guts... then force you to rise again." Risa's voice took on a low cadence, as if she were telling a story in the ways of her people. Her index finger traced through soft feathers, and suddenly she realized what she was doing. "Oh! Pardon me, Master Noble." she said, withdrawing her hand. Her cheeks were flushed.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>