The male spoke, and Katja's brow furrowed just the slightest bit. These soft Alacratians really did know nothing. Had he assumed all along that her price for a slave would be another slave? Verdammt, if she were paid in slaves for every slave she sold she'd never have anything to show for her live but an endless loop of whining, crying thralls to train. She was a warrior, not a nursemaid. "The ransom," she said slowly, for the male's benefit, "was - is - not for another slave... though we would be accepting of a slave of greater value. The ransom would be expected to be paid in the form of fresh, unspoiled kill, a favor owed with no questions asked, or other things of greater value than we could receive from a pack." She had it in her mind to somehow acquire some trinket, some bauble for Kapra, or something pretty to gift Raisa... but perhaps another time when need did not press so desperately upon the small band of raiders.
She made no response to his threats, however, past quirking one skeptical brow at him. If he felt he must verbalize that he was not spineless perhaps he was not so ready to offer his life in battle as he thought. You either were, or you were not. Well, they would see. "What is your decision, Savvil?" she instead repeated. Slowly, as one might a small child.
""
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