Listening to Donovan’s assessment of the situation still didn't make Aza feel any better about it.<em>Of course the building was coming down, and whose fault was that, you thieving moron?</em>she thought, but only to herself. Then her ears dipped at his mention of becoming a<em> toy</em>for Dean. He only meant Methuseld, right? It was probably an empty threat, meant for bargaining... Right?<br/><br/>She didn't like Donovan's claim that cooperation meant they'd live, either. Aza was no tactician, but letting Methuseld eventually walk seemed unwise, and Aza didn't trust this temporary display of mercy, not a bit. The men must've been intending to abandon the city and the Vizier's territory, then. Leaving these lands and Methuseld's reach was the only way they wouldn't be hunted down like dog-things.<br/><br/>In an attempt to soothe her nerves, she shook herself and sat back down in the resulting pile of dust, then carefully licked at the worst of the sticky, drying blood painting her flanks. It tasted even worse than she'd feared, and she was in the midst of a grimace of obvious disgust, muzzle wrinkled and pink tongue out, when Donovan addressed her. She froze, then shut her mouth and tried to look unassuming. Was it too late to pretend to be a tamed fox and little else? Hopefully he assumed any magical happenings from earlier in the night, like her color-changing fur and the weird energy detonations, to originate from the collar alone. And was he offering to heal her? Didn't seem safe. She didn't know how his abilities worked. He might notice too much. She had a headache and a few scrapes, but her own energies from the other side would slowly correct those, once those energies started to flow again. And the sooner they were free from here, the sooner that would happen.<br/><br/>Maybe she could lure Donovan away, give Methuseld a chance to slip her ropes. Being Aza, her first plan was always seduction. Get him somewhere quiet, then shift and keep him pleasantly occupied until Methuseld could get her sword back. The general would come for Aza, wouldn't she? Stab Donovan in the face and get herself and the fox off the boat? Except Donovan had already been dumb enough to fuck a Drow tonight, and look where that had gotten everyone. He might be too circumspect to fall for the overly-willing stranger trick again. Aza was utterly certain of her use of her feminine wiles when in bedchambers and parlors and other such civilized venues, entertaining princes and diplomats and sorceresses, but she also had just enough brains in her head to realize charm and nakedness might not work out here.<br/><br/>Too risky. She went back to reluctantly licking a foot, like she hadn't heard what Donovan said.<em> Hurry up, you armored harridan,</em>she thought quietly of Methuseld. She would've stripped off all that silver plate from the woman first, if she was Donovan. It looked expensive.