Her covering fell from her face before she had a chance to stop it, the material sliding from her hair quickly as gravity took hold until it created a huge fold at her neck, her untamed hair springing out in a riot of long curls. Her eyes flashed as she looked up into the azure blue eyes of the man before her. "Dáthadh ort!" She spat out at him before continuing in a heavy Gaelic accented English. "The man that brought me to this place tried and I returned such a favour by trying to take his hand off....teach me what you are required to but lay not a finger on me for I belong to no-one."<br/><br/>Her defiance was instinctive and the diametric opposite of her obedience at the task of closing the door. Perhaps it was simply because he approached her, entered her own personal space to feed his curiosity. She hated that they spoke of her and the other red head as if they weren't even standing there, that in fact as her own horrified curiosity had observed before she was also a chattel in these people's eyes. She had been dragged into a strange and confusing world where people could own, barter and enslave other people. It was clear that status within society meant nothing, that a titled dignitary could be in the same position as a common farm girl.<br/><br/>It meant to her that this land was by far more barbaric than the land she had grown up in no matter what the outward appearances had seemed. She had lived in a village where age and experience offered a hierarchy that was not tampered with, that deference was earned not bought. She kept her gaze on the man before her, examining his features, refusing to be intimidated by the fact that his lean muscled form towered over her. Her gaze dared him, challenged him to try and see what her reaction would be though she made no aggressive move. She would only retaliate as the commander had quickly discovered after her capture and so she waited her hands ready to lash out if required, hidden by the folds of her cloak.