Closed And though she be but little, she is fierce

[Naeya]

While Rat scurried away, mind awhirl with schemes of retribution for his fallen comrade, Naeya found herself alone with gritted teeth, a dirt-streaked face, and the beginnings of a purpling, boot-shaped bruise. Scuffed, stunned, but alive. And how glorious it was, to be alive. She rested her forehead on the cold ground as the shifter retrieved his cloak, and murmured a quick prayer of gratitude to her patron goddess. "Avalis, I thank you for blessing me with the clarity, fortitude, and luck to survive this day. And... thank you for the tiger. I think." A breath. "I hope." The konti stirred, pushing herself up and onto her knees, and brushed tangled strands of hair from her eyes. She looked to her inadvertent ally, unaware of how her head tilted in a mimicry of his. A long shadow, illuminated by the dusky evening sky, was cast upon the patchy grass as the shifter ambled lazily toward her. Naeya was struck by just how cat-like he looked in human form, how every movement seemed to speak of an instinctual awareness - and wariness - of his surroundings. And yet, he was not wholly a cat. The glint in his green eyes, eyes that might have matched her own emerald hue under Syna's light, held an intelligence and a curiousity beyond what she expected to find in a mere animal. He intrigued her more than he scared her, though thoughts of Cheeks' easy injuries were never far from her mind. She dropped her gaze, clasped her hands behind her cloak, and arched her back to stretch out the sudden stiffness of her limbs, exhaling softly before standing to meet the shifter as he moved closer. He was clothed now, or rather, covered, as his bare feet were quick to remind her. Not that she had been bothered by his nakedness - only surprised; her primary worry was the chill night air and the unwelcome attention he might receive from locals. "Are you hurt?" she asked, breaking the long silence that stretched oceans between them. "Or cold? You must be cold..." Her concern furrowed her brow, emphasizing the question in her eyes. The question was, in part, for herself. He seemed more than capable of fending for himself, and she was surprised to find such a strong desire to offer what meager assistance she could. How does one assist a tiger? "Do you have a place nearby?" She had thought to question his origins, to ask him if he was a Sunberthian, but hesitated and gently bit down on her lower lip. Her glance strayed to Cheeks, and an involuntary shiver wormed its way up her spine. "Why did you let the other one go?" The query she most wanted answered, formed by wonder rather than displeasure, came at him bluntly, a quiet rush of words that tumbled over one another like wild children scrambling for attention.

[Ka'Rael]

Unhurt by the previously so dire situation they had faced, Ka’Rael seemed almost eerily unmarked by what had just transpired. His earthly possessions had paid a heavy price for the encounter, yet the only cost to his corporal self was the glorious mess his hair had turned into. As he made his way over to her, he remained stoically silent. His attention also remained, nigh undiverted but for a constant awareness of their surroundings, on her. His gait was indeed cat-like, his every step seemed to flow into the next seamlessly. His feet were not simply platforms for walking, but rather important sensory organs - he felt the ground and allowed for it to guide him along. The later fact was only partly due to his nature, though, since it had as much to do with experience. The same would be observed, convergently, in races and species living barefoot in nature. He allowed her questions to go unanswered until he had reached her immediate vicinity. As he did, he sniffed in the air. Sampling her scent in the most unobtrusive way he could manage, without at all managing to be stealthy about the purpose. Naturally, his powers of olfaction were reduced in his human form. But still, he was much more proficient at it and many times more sensible to scents - than was any human. Ka’Rael tried to make sense of the myriad of scents on her, about her and in her clothes. The task was daunting, and while he did not really dabble in courtesy - he knew staying silent forever was not an option. Plus, he actually wanted to talk to the lithe blonde. Not something most people brought out in him, conversational was as far from what he was as anything. “Many questions.” He stated, as if that wasn’t obvious already. There did not seem to be much more of a point to his words than stating the obvious, though. But he did break the silence again, mere moments later. “I answer yours, you answer mine.” He didn’t even wait for her to agree to the deal he proposed. Instead he moved on. “What other choice?”, some sort of twitch that might have been supposed to be a smirk or a small smile took hold of his lips. “If I did not let him go, he would die. Slaying him would not help me. I do not want to eat him. Do you, female, hmm?” He shot her a look that was unmistakable, this time it was a real question and not a rhetorical one. Furthermore, he kept her gaze locked with his for a while - studying her instead of trying to make sense of her alien features, of which he seemed most fascinated. He was oddly clumsy with his words. He appeared to master the language fluently, yet it appeared as if the concept of expression was something he did not grasp well.