Zoran-Thiea threw a casual gaze over to the prisoner who cussed and lunged at the bars of his cell. The city must have brought some horrible injustice upon him for him to be speaking that way, but she wasn't exactly surprised at it. If anything, she was surprised that he had made it as far as the dungeons, rather than being cut down in the street for being an illegal immigrant of Eve. She understood his ravings well, albeit not in her native tongue; she had spend more than enough time trading goods in the Eveish markets to understand their language. Especially was she familiar with the sound of an angry cussing Eveite. 

Of course, though she continued along, the upset prisoner did catch the attention of Marr. The overly cautious Rosilian had seemed to find the stick to put back up his arse ever since they has neared the castle.

[i]He's probably just worried some guard is going to find us and cut us down like dogs.[/i] She huffed with a bit of a grin.

[b][i]Wait. Aren't you worried about that same thing? It is a very likely possibility, dear.[/i][/b] Her mind seemed to inquire of itself.

She took a moment to think. [i]Well, yes. But it would make things a lot simpler if I died. Then I wouldn't be stuck having to traverse lands unknown in search of some way to bring my father the eternal damnation which he deserves. It really will take up quite a lot of time.[/i]

[b][i]But is it not a desire to do so, more than simply a burden to you?[/i][/b]

[i]Well yeah. I do desire to be the orchestrator of his personal hell...[/i]

[b][i]Well anyone who believes in the gods knows that he will suffer his due in the afterlife.[/i][/b]

[i]But we don't believe in the gods stupid...[/i]

[b][i]That is true...[/i][/b]

Somewhere in amidst the great intellectual debate she had been hosting with herself, Marr had stopped and turned to the prisoner. As she inadvertently continued walking forward, her steps were suddenly halted by the voice she heard. Marr, speaking plain as day: "You are either brave or foolish for speaking to me like that..."

She turned with her mouth agape. Perhaps his Eveish was a little rusty, but she clearly understood his words, just the same as she understood the prisoner's words. "You bloody Rosilian bastard!" She called back to him in Eveish—still quite stunned—though she checked herself to make sure she didn't yell it as loudly as she had wanted to. She hadn't even thought to try to speak to him in Eveish. She guessed that noble Rosilians would never bother soiling their fine pallet with either of the other languages. She shook her head in disbelief and then turned to the prisoner as Marr then asked him to join them. "Well, if you're coming, move your arse!"