The warmth would leave his face, in fact, the very air around them would take on a crackling chill.  The eyes that had been shining brilliantly now had an edge that cut like a razors edge.  Lowering the rations, Velikan spoke very low and the voice came forth like the breaking of stone cascading over each other.  With a firm gaze and tone, he addresses Tamara.<br/><br/>"I was born of a slave."  The proclamation hung in the air and chilled the marrow.<br/><br/>"My heritage mocks me."  He gestured to himself in ways to accent his non human look, his eye color, his sharply pronounced features.<br/><br/>"I proudly own my self and no other. I have freely set my way that is before me.  I walk it because it is my path.  I refused the life I was given and fought free of the oppression and built my Ma and I a new life."  His presence pulsed with a menacing vibrance that was tangible.<br/><br/>Despite the energy of the moment, there was not a feeling of threat in the communication.  It was raw and intense.  Unbridled, Velikan let the meaning of his words pierce them in response to Tamara's innocent seeming question.<br/><br/>Then his gaze turned upon Gra'ak and he spoke with clear and cool certainty, "She calls you master, Sir Kordoth."  There was extra weight placed on the word Sir so that there was a mutual understanding between them.  One that Velikan was having a hard time reconciling in his soul, being as this, this...  Humanoid seemed of an upright character.<br/><br/>Again, there was the weight of the statement hanging in the air, unresolved.