[She respects so few people; it's so hard for her to respect anyone, but this boy, she can't quite help herself. There's not quite the spark of ambition in him that she'd like, but he's not blind like most people are, not as married to falseness as adults are. Maybe children just see things more clearly than adults do; maybe her own madness has allowed her to escape their blinders.]
[Either way, the tendrils on her back drape over her shoulders like furs, a covert sign of approval, and she flexes her claws again, like she's practicing.]
Big wars and little wars. Everything is a fight for superiority, for survival.
You're perceptive. [Her voice is warm and rich and pleased.]
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[Either way, the tendrils on her back drape over her shoulders like furs, a covert sign of approval, and she flexes her claws again, like she's practicing.]
Big wars and little wars. Everything is a fight for superiority, for survival.
You're perceptive. [Her voice is warm and rich and pleased.]