Kax could not be bothered with her reaction to his words. His eyes were glazed, and he had lost all interest in what was going on here. His jaw clenched a bit when she called him 'dear', but other than that, he showed no reaction. He didn't look at anyone and to someone who didn't know him, he seemed to be in an empathic state, his muscles seeming to be relaxed and calm. But to those that knew him, his father and soldiers that he had fought with before, knew that right now he was aching for action, aching to be doing something to his enemies besides talking to them. When she left, he found little reason to stay on as well. He stood and bowed, without a word, and left the room. His eyes were glazed over, and he made no contact with any other in the room. He left briskly, but not hurriedly.<br/><br/>He made for his quarters. He entered the room a very different man from the one that left the hall. His now seemed more like a caged tiger, his eyes flickering this way and that, muscles bristling, aching for action. With a low cry he burst forward, his naked fist making contact with the post of his bed. A loud crack and the post splintered and snapped in half. His fist was bleeding, with splinters inside, but he paid it no heed. He spun around and hammered his foot into the stone desk on the other side of the room. He crushed the table with a single blow, his leg bleeding and his clothes torn. With no one to hear him, he screamed at the four walls around him. Finally he calmed himself and sat on his ruined bed, breathing heavily.