Triumphant return

[Oriena]

She laughed; it was a dark, bitter sound. "I was under the impression your people disposed of the things that don't belong. Yet you're willing to allow one of them to waltz out the front door? Even if he is White."
A brow rose in amusement; it was clear she was playing with him, but the claws were retracted, and the swipes more curious than cruel. The man was Atharim, but she suspected he was also something else. It was the only reason she lingered.

He leaned in to whisper more warnings. Ori understood the risks, but she'd squeeze the blade tighter before letting go. The gamble fired her blood. Her voice hushed to match his, her focus intent. "People die in war. And war this will be. Your people kill children because of gifts they barely understand."

"I can only think of one reason you'd assume you knew what he is. Are you sure you belong here?"
She finally stepped back. The answer mattered little - he'd be a fool to admit it. But she wanted him to know she suspected, to feel the secret unravelling around him, to stab panic in his heart. Only to soothe those feelings with a grin. "I don't care for trinkets. But you should come with us."