my heart runs on gasoline vapors

The Warlord watched her closely, ignoring the snow that billowed around them. The Armada was still vulnerable, and even a storm wouldn't rush him into making a decision that would affect those he called his own. He observed the way her eyes sparked at his question. He had touched on a topic that interested her. A mark in her favour, though she wouldn't know it yet.


He huffed a soft laugh, and his own eyes showed his amusement. "Diplomacy is where battlefields go to die." He told her blandly, but then continued on. "But I am an old wolf, and if age has taught me anything, it's that not all battles have to end at the tips of my claws. As it so happens, I may have a need for you. But tell me, Lefty. Would it wrankle you to start at the bottom, and prove yourself?" A test. She did not even know how far the bottom lay.