Talk enough sense and you'll lose your mind

He was kind, and there was something about it that caused Jendayi’s heart to flutter. It felt like a gentle gasp caught in her throat, a tickling in her stomach she could not subside. She passes it off simply as the food she’d just eaten, and perhaps the still-lingering nervousness that came from her near-death. He seemed just as flustered, but Jendayi was not one to press the issue. I would like that, he says, and a part of Jendayi feels almost compelled to ask him why—were there certain props given to those who acted heroic? Who fed their numbers? Perhaps Torin just liked her enough to want her to stick around (though this thought was quickly outweighed by the former, which seemed more realistic). She then thought, maybe, they needed to bolster their numbers, to add more hunters and soldiers. It would soon become painfully clear that Jendayi was good at neither—a life alone meant a life of wandering and hunting rabbits, and it was not much help to any sort of pack.

“I won’t be in your fur much longer, then,” she comments softly, and brings herself to her paws. The weight of her lack of movement caused the world to spin about her; her legs still numb and sore ached underneath her weight. Quickly, however, was she to recouperate. Now that she had eaten, and rested, Jendayi saw no reason to keep herself in Torin’s care much longer. “I should be strong enough to make the trek back. And I’ll keep my eyes on the ground this time,” she replied humorously, catching the glint of his own bi-colored gaze with the golden of hers. She had all the intentions of returning where she came from, despite the dangers. Now she knew of them, and now, it meant she could travel the land with ease and knowledge of its dangers. She did not want to impose on the man much longer, not since he’d been so kind.

“You have your sister—or…is she your lover? Friend? I don’t know, fuck,” she struggled, unsure if Jewell was his sister, or his lover, or his friend—he had mentioned it before, but in the haze of her shock she had forgotten what exactly he had said. A low rumble exhaled in her chest at the slip-up, chiding herself over poor social cues, and even poorer conversation. As always, she failed horribly at small-talk. Damnit.