Her words, surprising and respectable as they may have been, were soon silenced as a clawed hand wrapped itself around her pretty little throat, squeezing enough to keep her quiet, and unable to breathe.<br/><br/>"Watch your tone, trollop." she said, tightening her grip "Your life was in my hands before, metaphorically.  Perhaps now that it is far more<em>literal</em>you'll show me the respect I deserve and keep your tone in check."<br/><br/>She relaxed her grip a bit, but kept her hand their, enough pressure that she wouldn't be able to forget it.  She could throw this woman across the camp she'd bet, if she really wanted... she hoped she wouldn't have to... but she would if she must.<br/><br/>"Now... convince me you're not one of those 'soft-bodied pigs' as you so eloquently put it." she said, her tone as even as before, her glare as harsh as before, if not harsher "Not all Dragonbloods are of the Realm, I know, but I will say this much: I have yet to meet one who<em>wasn't</em>.  You convince me you're not one of their soldiers or a Wyld huntsman, and you may just live to see another day..."