Callisto turned to stare at Keating. Nearly pupil-less eyes, unblinking, with a look that almost appeared as if the Ethaefal was nonchalant about the whole matter. And perhaps she was. She didn’t seem him as anything more than a trifling mortal man who had a rather presumptuous look in his eyes. The fire blazed but Callisto remained silent for a moment, smoothing out the shirt that clung to all the right curves, and left much to be desired. “Your assumptions are getting a bit out of hand, Sir Keating.” She said curtly, “But I don’t think you will be more bold. You’ve already shown me what you’re capable of by your reaction alone. I think that would suffice.” She watched almost wearily as he fanned the flames that licked the damp air, bringing down flecks of hot ash that landed almost forlornly around her legs. When he sat down beside her, her eyes lingered on his chest, crawled up his arms and settled on his lips as he spoke. How clever was he, to skillfully evade her questioning and go off on such an abrupt tangent! Could he be hiding something? Or did the mention of Rose hurt him in such a way that was beyond the Ethaefal’s comprehension? “You could be more blunt and tell me to stop speaking of her, if you wish,” She said, then eyed the hand that was so graciously extended for her. Callisto paused, almost hesitant, a flicker of something beyond placidness on her features, but she held out her throbbing hand, still slightly red, but very much intact. “You’d be wise not to underestimate me.” She murmured, a barely audible statement. Her lips curled into a smile. “What if I had been someone else? Let’s say… not a woman? Would you have smacked me with that board? I’m sure that wouldn’t have been very kind. It seems the wild is an excuse to lose ones manners.” Now it was her who seemed to be going off on her own tangent, and she spoke, with her hand in his, and her eyes lingering on his fingers and wrist, as rough and strong as they appeared. |