Loque was already proving to be very helpful to his cause; instead of wasting ether growing a hand to open a door with, she just had to ask the ithecal to open the door for her. It wasn't as though the amber-scaled Ithecal would slow her down either, she was very light on her back, she lifted her with ease. The Protean was quite proud of this form, the Llewnos. She was robust, strong, durable... And very adaptable. At a brisk pace, she carried the slave down the streets of The Gleam. The sun rose behind the two of them and idly warmed their backs as they went.
"I don't know why you would. I'd just hate to see something happen to you." The protean held back a chuckle at the thought. Not a threat? With jaws like those? "You sell yourself short, Loque." Despite her lack in confidence, she seemed to know a word of wisdom or two 'If show violence, get violence'. While it was a nice sentiment of a better world, it wasn't necessarily true, or so she thought. Her Lotharro had been the aggressor, the violator in plenty of fights and... When the Protean stopped to think about it, it made a lot of sense. There was a reason that her Lotharro totem was plastered in scars and tales of fights gone wrong, and it was because he always resorted to violence and received violence in return... It sounded so simple in the words of the Ithecal, but she'd never really acknowledged the fact.
Perhaps she had something to learn from her slave after all.
