Don't say you love me then turn around and drop me

Once more his response was… different than she expected. Bellamy shifted again as if she had received another small nose boop. ‘This behavior isn’t natural.’ The woman thought to herself. He was different… she wasn’t sure if she liked that. Yet… she had to admit it was kind… nice to have someone care so little for signs of aggression and dominance. To not have to be immediately on them with some comeback, snarl, and ready to brawl. Not that Bells counted on him to remain more docile. No, she’d never hold her breath with that hope — she’d be likely far more likely to suffocate than walk away from a prolonged encounter unscathed.

When he stopped Bells braced herself at first — the movement was sudden… but no attack came. Instead a name fell from his lips. Acere. Her frown deepened, brows knitting together as for a long moment she just stared at him. He was bizarre. Was his mind sound? No, he was fine… the insane tended to laugh at nothing or be violent from what she’d seen. He showed no signs of either of those things… so he was genuine? Maybe? Bellamy still held her doubts.

“Bellamy of Foi.” She spoke her name, followed by the Lyennian religion she chose to follow. It was custom for slaves to carry their name considering their family names were stripped from them. Their beliefs were all they had left at that point. But she… she had fought for more.

...and she had won.

She didn’t move closer, but her gaze was intent on him.

Staring, studying.

“Are all the wolves here this fucking weird?” She asked as her head shifted to the side once more. “You don’t seem the least bit concerned with my presence… you walk with confidence... “ Her gaze narrowed some. Reminded her of that cocky so called “Queen” and her soldiers…

...and yet at the same time… they would not freely give their name as if you were an ally.

She snorted softly, confusion clear on her face.

“...What are you...?”