It would have gotten a laugh out of him-- a tiny dandelion puff asking if she was horrible-- if he hadn't been ruminating over it so intensely. He scrutinized her. "There are tales of Lumanliscs raising the dead, or calling the tides to drown scores of innocent men. So I guess the... gardening class threw me for a loop."

He was very cognizant of how much he revealed. "There are some impressive lineages. But if your sisters are so powerful, why do they bother dirtying their hands with us Sangrian dogs? Surely they'd be of better use elsewhere."

"Well, we're just trying to do what we can to lessen the damage." Zynfi said. "... I don't know too much about how it all happens, you know. They leave me out of most things. But... I know that when we find Sangrians on our land, they bring them here. And then after a while, they leave."

I'd rather be home, he was about to say, but the phrase never left his lips as he reconsidered. The thought was sick, but home meant living under his father's thumb, something he dreamed of leaving behind. But still... not like this.
"What does that make you?" He wondered.

"Not much of a captor, I suppose. I can be your friendly sidekick!"

"You say that like we're a team."

"Couldn't we be? If not a team, then at least friendly." she said, offering him her hand. "I'm Zynfi. You should know if you want to be my friend."

He hesitated, his brain running through a tense risk check before he took her hand and muttered back, "Rommer."

"How lovely." she beamed. Her hand was small and warm, but she gave his a good shake. "This will be Rommer's tree."

His hand was much cooler and calloused by comparison, but he reciprocated with a firm grip. "Will you be around again?" He found himself asking.