It took the very extreme countermeasures of Allerya's resolve to stop her from beheading the female where she stood - spitting was a sign of disrespect that outweighed all others.
But, indeed her resolve and common sense held and found herself arguing the productivity of committing such an impulsive act. No, she would not act on emotion.
Yet her face displayed the stark opposite: a scowl corrupted her beautiful visage and a darkness crept over her eyes and mouth long enough for her to realise she was being overturned. A darkness that birthed from her heart and soul and lingered in the very pressure of her blood. A darkness that she feared would one day overtake her.
The Blade's face soon became mutual again as she processed the foul words that came from the mage and took them as a harsh staccato of criticism. She also knew the very hate that founded the words were fueled by love, not unlike herself. And for that, she forgave her.
'Although I would have chosen a different bunch, you were the ones that answered, and the want to fight for your lives, this land and those you love, means something.'
This time she eyed the Altmer that had spoken less confidently to her, annoyed that the Thalmor had stuck their finger in a pot that was already boiling: 'And for those of you who are here for ill purposes...' Allerya snorted slightly: 'Political purposes, if you are so inclined, will meet a fruitless and untimely end.'
The Blade combed back her hair, plastering it against her head as she looked about the room once more.
'Greater details will be explained on our journey, for now, let us meet at Cold Rock Pass. Our first mission will be to recover the Horn. Let us take our leave, then!'
She touched the hilt of her katanna, checking the rigidity of its scabbard before walking out of the room and ascending the stairs, feeling the eyes that followed her. She made her way out of The Winking Skeever, into the quiet early-evening streets of Solitude before exiting the city.
Finally, she sighed. Allerya was not entirely used to the claustrophobia in cities and Solitude made her feel on edge - Imperials and Thalmor. She liked Ulfric not much more but the constant meddling by the Empire and Thalmor had become tiresome after the Dragonborn had reappeared so many years ago, and thus, the two formers had risen to the top of her 'To kill' list.
The party began their descent down the path from Solitude with Allerya taking lead, walking proud and upright eyeing the mountains and skies that promised things that were not entirely what she had planned for for the remainder of her life. She wondered if the remainder of her life would exceed this journey. Secretly, she did not want it to.
And a tear slipped out of her before she could wipe it away and glance beside her to check if anyone had seen, before staring ahead once more into their promised doom.
Astounded did not begin to described the description of Ysarth's slim face - perhaps a fear for the mage's life had also taken hold in the first few moments of witnessing her reaction and his own.
And even more surprisingly was the way The Blade had accepted it, as if she understood. What troubled the Watcher was the strength in the young Nordic mage's words and the lack of sensing the danger of crossing a veteran user of magic on Allerya's part. A sense of survival screamed from the mages words, as if what she protected meant breathing or dying. That was an emotion he had not encountered yet - a love he often dreamt about. From what he saw, the Khajiit which she protected so fiercely, bore a tang so long and deep in the girl's heart that there was merely nothing that could dare bend it.
Ysarth Wildborne smiled - that was an acceptance he found in nature and it in him. There was nothing quite like it.
It was with a dark gaze that he met the Blade's eyes and comment, and knew immediately what accusation she had made. He hated his Thalmor brothers - they were selfish and proud, both critical downfalls of any race. Ysarth smiled with indifference: he knew he was here to feel needed again, not to dabble in fools' quarrel that was politics, and he knew he had made the right choice by coming here.
Ysarth followed her out of the room, dismissing the farewell gesture of the innkeep on the way out and into the wilderness again. This time, he chose to linger behind the group as it caterpillared behind the Blade out of Solitude and watched the heels of his strange companions kick up as he walked.
Alla'Amir smiled, entertained by the anger that had ensued amidst them. It was stroked it's whiskers as the girl protected it and its kin from such a disrespectful Nord. It hated Nords already, and the one that bore the sword of many-fallen heads was not doing much to improve its kin's popularity situation.
In its mind, it egged the magic-user on, willing to strike at the Blade without pause if the other one had reacted in eliminating any of their lives.
It wandered itself capable of out-dancing such a large blade and sneaking a dagger under her breastplate. The thought made it grin, but soon guilt made the reaction whither, and the Khajiit wandered if it was here on the right purposes.
Alla'Amir looked at the Breton as he spoke earlier and crushed such proud and humble words into dust within its own mind. Where it grew up, there was no respite, pity or humility. Itself was all it had ever had. It had been kicked and sworn and even brought to near death, but nothing had deterred it: Alla'Amir lived on.
And that was why the mangy Khajiit could appreciated and praise the miniscule appreciated it received from the other like it and the mage which stood beside the other. Even the Orkish-Khajiiti biped had been accepting, and so, Alla'Amir had accepted all of them.
It found itself allured oddly to the one named Lazgl as they exited the giant city. It had been there by its side since the journey began and it was not willing to let its new companion go just yet. The prospect of being alone seemed suddenly distasteful.
It shook its head: Such queer feeling this one has
It disliked the fact it was suddenly not in control of what it thought, as if they had appeared on their own and manipulated its actions and words, and without thinking, the Khajiit blurted to the one beside it:
'This one does not feel comfortable without the other. This one wishes to walk beside until the journey ends.'
Alla'Amir shrunk back into itself and, in an attempt to not be forward, pretended as if it had not spoken at all.