She watched the way he'd looked her over; her hair was strange among her people, nearly the color of the clouds that dotted a summer sky, and his attention to it was not unusual. Not one of the harsh words that fell from his mouth was the least comprehensible to her, but the tone of his voice was clear enough. Her blood-stained lips twisted into a sneer, and she looked him slowly over herself, taking in the ornate but mismatched armor that clasped him head to foot.<br/><br/>The look that came over her face was unmistakeable - pretty, but hard features twisting into an expression of undisguised derision at what she saw before her. Styled as a warrior, the man was nothing more than a scavenger, a creature who picked up what remained after those who fought had done their word.<br/><br/>Her mouth moved again, and she spat upon the skull that adorned the center of his scarred leather breastplate.