The Miqo'te caught himself being very proficient with a flourished vocabulary of foul words to describe Kresha. He could not believe she was only doing her job, there was something else. Something much darker.
Silly Hyur, he thought. Their social nature, massing them in clusters piled in these towns. They never really knew the meaning of quietude, of isolation. Of meditation. The Miqo'te, him, was quite comfortable being alone. The utter darkness was not the most convenient, but it was nothing to fear either.
He watched her and her lapdogs leave the room.
"Funny," he whistled once the door was closed. "They plunge me in this closed space without light, yet they are the ones in the dark. They need to know." The Keeper took a few moments to appreciate that truth. Alas, it was little more than seconds. His challenging smirk fell, and he let out a heavy sigh, weighed with weariness.
He needed out. Somehow. Now that he was given some time to breathe, he could calm himself. Binds? Yes, they were still very tight. It looked like he would have to deal with the filthy Hyur again. And he would rather bark at one of her men to stick her in rather than giving her another show of pain that she seemed to get off from.
He had to come up with something.
...
Did he pass out? The hour seemed so short, and the door slammed open with the benevolent little company making their way to the Keeper once again. Kahn'a followed them with his eyes. He only dared look at her when she planted herself in front of him. She had the look of someone who knew she was about to get what she wanted.
"I'll talk," Kahn'a finally said in a shameful whisper. "But atsa Flame soldier, grant me some dignity. I would like to be dressed a little more for this."
"It could take some time."
Yes, Kahn'a. This is all you can do.
Silly Hyur, he thought. Their social nature, massing them in clusters piled in these towns. They never really knew the meaning of quietude, of isolation. Of meditation. The Miqo'te, him, was quite comfortable being alone. The utter darkness was not the most convenient, but it was nothing to fear either.
He watched her and her lapdogs leave the room.
"Funny," he whistled once the door was closed. "They plunge me in this closed space without light, yet they are the ones in the dark. They need to know." The Keeper took a few moments to appreciate that truth. Alas, it was little more than seconds. His challenging smirk fell, and he let out a heavy sigh, weighed with weariness.
He needed out. Somehow. Now that he was given some time to breathe, he could calm himself. Binds? Yes, they were still very tight. It looked like he would have to deal with the filthy Hyur again. And he would rather bark at one of her men to stick her in rather than giving her another show of pain that she seemed to get off from.
He had to come up with something.
...
Did he pass out? The hour seemed so short, and the door slammed open with the benevolent little company making their way to the Keeper once again. Kahn'a followed them with his eyes. He only dared look at her when she planted herself in front of him. She had the look of someone who knew she was about to get what she wanted.
"I'll talk," Kahn'a finally said in a shameful whisper. "But atsa Flame soldier, grant me some dignity. I would like to be dressed a little more for this."
"It could take some time."
Yes, Kahn'a. This is all you can do.
