Her gaze followed his gesture, taking in the waiting knives and vegetables, and she nodded quietly. "Thank you."<br/><br/>It did not take long for her to finish the few dishes she'd brought with her, and without a word she reached over to take some of the ones that Morena had waiting to be washed, working through them in silence. It was not a comfortable silence; she didn't really know the other woman, but the questions that burdened her were ones too forward to ask.<br/><br/>Finally she was able to turn away from the sink, drying her hands on the apron that was the only thing she'd been given to wear. Step by stiff step to the table she went, sliding a knife from the block with a quietly metallic ring.<em>Death is a privilege...</em>Such a strange thing for him to say, yet she gazed for a long moment at her own reflection in the side of the blade, contemplating.<br/><br/>Then she grabbed a potato, and began to chop. Owen's words still resonated in her heart; he would try, and she owed it to him to still be alive when he succeeded.