Vestara glanced sideways towards the scarred one. The vicious smile she saw on once beautiful face made her nervous, but she didn't show it, she hid it behind a half-smile. She wasn't afraid - you didn't survive as long as she did in her family estate by being afraid, but this one was clearly dangerous.<br/>- "Aren't you the pretty one..." she murmured, with enough volume so that the other woman heard, but not the Sith instructors.<em>So much anger</em>, she thought, almost feeling it radiate. Even with her limited training in the Force, she could feel the strength of her spirit, the intensity and focus of her anger. It felt... refreshingly genuine. At her family estate, there was much hatred and strife, there was a web of lies that everyone created around themselves. The words were nice and polite, but the double and triple layers of meaning behind them... was often ruthless and treacherous. Such genuine and pure hatred was... interesting. And new.<br/>"Tell me, oh pretty one..." she murmured, glancing at the scarred girl once again. "...can you survive a blaster shot to the head?"<br/>