Mouse let out a long breath as Kisara quipped again. She wanted to respond in fury, but the one with daggers was doing his best to prevent another fight, and... he was right. Except for the part about wearing less clothes by the riverside. He might have been joking about that part; she really couldn't tell!<br/><br/>"We may have that fight later," she said to Kisara with a steely gaze as the crowd cheered around them, "he's right, we're not out of this yet. Doing it now would be foolish."<br/><br/>"<em>Judgment</em>has nothing to do with it. I am not some foolish savage who only thinks in hatred," she said to Kisara, although the growl in her voice told a different story, "this is practicality - treachery is seared into the very bones of the Dragons. Your whole history, your whole<em>life</em>is boiled in the blood of those your people have betrayed and enslaved. So one bone has been<em>cast out</em>from that unending stew of charnel. Should I embrace it? Why should I think you any different from the rest? Why should anyone?"<br/><br/>"But," she turned to Talion, and Zavros who was in the middle of knocking Talion over," if you two promise to turn her into paste if she betrays us, to slavers, or monks, or legions, or her family for the hope of redemption, I don't care which. If you're ready and willing to strike her down, then I would be willing to trust my charges to her associates."<br/><br/>She turned to the crowd, raising her voice loud enough to be heard, "if anyone happens to have been hurt, I can see to them."<br/><br/>"You, ah," she said more quietly to Talion, a faint smile on her lips, "I can certainly walk on my own, but if you want to hold me up while I see to the sick and injured, I won't argue."<br/>