As she catches his gaze on her shoulders, Jael understands. A little knowing held in eye contact, a little held breath. Intense, but not in the same way her stare often is. This is different. Perhaps there's something strange about longing so very deeply for something that you can touch. But she's not here to think about longing, she's not here to think about want. She's here to think about trade, and about snakes, and about rebuilding her life. Maybe he can be on her mind, when she thinks about that last bit.
Snakes. Right, there was still a snake skull to process. Reaching for a long, sturdy piece of wire she'd scavenged from somewhere around the house, Jael begins to dig at the brain. It would take some smushing and some rattling, but it's a fairly effective method. He weaves through names of places she has yet to see, but very well plans to. Places that Jael will insist she get to see, but also knows that she won't go alone. One of their neighbors had animals, something that draws her attention up from the skull. Her ears perk, her tail twitches. That was good news, at least in her mind.
And comes the news of another, the Armada. Not quite friends, and she catches the flicker at the corners of his lips. Jael is not wholly unfamiliar with the ways of raiders, pirates, rustlers-- they're not always the most upstanding. Tensions were natural, and what was life without a little spice anyway? She will let sleeping enemies lie, this time. Instead, she inquires on something that will perhaps occupy her mind in a more concrete way. "Are there any glaring gaps you see in the market right now?" Jael's gaze rakes across his face, taking him in. Really, she can't help herself. Lingering, before near-reluctantly returning to her work.
Professor
