Mezolene responded as any lady of quality might to such a display. She lifted up her slender gloved fingertips and applauded softly, the echo of her hands muffled by lace. As Isk approached, she reacted in a remarkably calm fashion for one who had never encountered his kind, but then she was a traveler by nature. Besides which, she had had to smile and fuck more outlandish things in her day. Her smile was quite genuine, the base emotions an empath might smell off of her being mostly curiousity, "Oh, clearly you are a warrior first. That's a familiar proposition, is it not? What IS a woman like you doing in a place like THIS?"<br/><br/>"I am Mezolene Myndar, a scarlet companion. I was travelling with the flesh merchants... Was being the operative word." She eyed the corpses of the slavers, ignoring their freshly dead prattle as best she could. In regards to her emotional state, certain things were just not in their right place, or missing entirely.<br/><br/>It didn't seem to impede her all that much as she shrugged almost helplessly, "I did not care for their company, but I am ever so delicate. When it became necessary to cross the wastes, my options were limited." There was something about the Damacian's tone that didn't require an empath to detect. An almost vicious playfulness tainted her words, as if she chose each carefully, innocently spoken when taken on the surface but with unsettling and horrible things implied, "But these things have a way of working themselves out, don't they? It is a pleasure to meet you, by the by!"