Cedric’s blue eyes watched her as she sipped her drink, stifling a laugh at her expressions. It was a little humorous to see someone respond to alcohol like that, no matter who it was. Still, that small tug of a smile toyed with the corners of his lips. Maybe she was a little unsure of herself, a little out-of-touch after having spent so much time with her captors. There would be a lot of readjusting to life in her very near future.

As the conversation drew dangerously close to his race, he watched her as they danced around the subject. She was a very clever girl, he concluded. Cedric was watching the gears turn in her head as she worked it out - or maybe she had already solved it some time ago. He had hidden his identity for so long… the way she sniffed at the foot of the truth made his insides squirm. And then she practically said it, and his heart dropped into his stomach. “I think everyone knows how viciously your people were hunted.” His mouth went dry, and he doubted if even rum would cure it. His shoulders tensed stiffly as he searched for a way out of something so blatant, and he racked his mind for what he had said that had given himself way. Settling himself, the dragon’s blue eyes rested on her face. He had killed for this girl. Did he not trust her? Trust was so difficult, so fragile. And yet… she was different. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out, at least at first. “...I … get away to be myself every now and again…” he answered her question hesitantly. It was true, every few months or so he might find a quiet day or a peaceful evening when he would make sure he wasn’t followed, venturing out to the mountains. There, he would transform and fly again. But yes, it had been quite some time since he had felt comfortable doing that. “You think my people were hunted…” he said, choosing finally to answer her claim with a question. He knew what he was. She knew what he was. She knew that he knew that she knew what he was. But for some reason, he needed to hear her say it. “What do you think I am?”

Their conversation was turning into a complex one, as each topic delved deeper into who they were. Cedric had decided: if they were going to be honest with each other, then they were going to be honest. Her confusion about his commentary on scars had not made the subject any lighter, but it didn’t bother him. What did bother him, as it had from their initial meeting that morning, was how poorly she seemed to view herself. Why would he want to impress her? She had asked as if she wasn’t worthy. Cedric shook his head. “It isn’t often that I get the chance to enjoy a conversation with someone as smart as you.” he told her. Sure, maybe she had said a few small things that weren’t the brightest. But she had also spent an ungodly amount of time being kept from the world and tortured, so she could be forgiven those commentaries. “I don’t know how you piece things together about who… what I am.” he cleared his throat, still subconsciously wary of the subject, “But you do. You’re very clever. And also kind.” So of course he would want to impress her. Of course, Cedric tried to impress most people. But he wouldn’t have her thinking less of herself when she didn’t deserve it.

Still, it seemed that would be a long road before she reached that destination. The dragon took a breath before answering her next question. “Yes, that is how I see my scars.” he told her. “But not always. I understand the way you feel about them. Except that mine do not warrant looks, questions or pity. I’m sorry, I can’t empathize with you there. But I know it must be hard for you.” He looked at her, his gaze drifting to observe the patches on her wings, the colors on her face, the scars on her arms. He openly pitied her, and he wondered if he had made her feel embarrassed and ashamed, as she had said. He hoped that he didn’t, but it would hardly be fair of him to ask her to make an exception, just for his sake. In time, perhaps things would change.

As he pressed her for information, she drank without the reflex in her nose. But her hesitation was only momentary, and the answer was what he had expected. But still… to hear that most of them had died was a bit of a shock. Cedric had thought that at least they might have made an effort to keep them alive, if they were holding these people as a source of income. But torturerers did not make good caretakers, and perhaps that would explain such a death rate. She had answered his question, but returned it with another direct remark. “….that’s the same as you. Isn’t it? You watched everyone around you disappear as well.” Oh, Lux. She had such a way of posing things that left him little room to be vague. Alright. If she was sure that was what she wanted…

Cedric took a gulp of his rum, finishing the glass and refilling it. “Disappearing is a nice way of putting it.” he looked at her as he set the bottle back on the table. “But before I answer you, do you know what you’re asking?... If you want to know, I will tell you. But you should tell me just how much you want to know.”