No sooner has Miaren's mental missive reached Fern, than a sharp slash of discontent cuts through Adamion's features, carving his lips into a shallow scowl, betrays his surprise.  He sets his hands to his hips and regards Fern with a look that could flay.<br/><br/><strong>"So, you have been taught to talk.  It seems Cousin Draque takes rude indulgences with his pets." </strong>His sneer levels out into an expression of modest nausea.<strong>"Disgusting.<br/><br/>"There is one last word I would have from you, pet." </strong>Adamion says in a tone like sculpted pitch.  The other elves move smoothly closer, seeming to glide over the sandy path.<strong>"If you speak but once more after your next answer, I will take whatever part of your mind allows this undignified facility for speech, forever; your owner's perverse preferences be damned."</strong><br/><br/>His finger lifts in less time than it would take for the moment to flash.  He points with extended arm toward Miaren.<strong>"Did you assist your master in instructing her?  Does she respond to you?"</strong><br/><br/>His arm hangs like a guillotine blade in the air before them, eyes already slitting Fern to the quick.