When silence ensued between them for a short moment, Jazelle shifted her weight beneath his gaze. When he raised a hand, she took a half step back and angled her body, her grip on her closed knife tightening and arm ready to pull it out, though she was sure it would do no good.
	When he only created an orb of light above his palm, her grip loosened slightly, and a close-lipped grin made her mouth rise on one side. She had seen his fight with the Necromancer, but had paid little mind to the magic he used then. Here, she found she could not draw her attention away from the show of magic, as simple as it was.
	She only looked away from the light when Sunder threatened to turn her into a statue. Her eyes narrowed irritably at him, but she just gave another shrug at it. She had had worse threats thrown her way.
	"I've always wondered what it'd be like to be a statue," she mused quietly. She leaned her weight onto her back foot. Though she had the feeling that, unlike the other threats she had received, this one was not empty, she refused to show her unease. Even though he had rescued her--as far as she could tell--she did not take kindly to people who used such tactics to bring obedience.
	At his comment about where she came from, she gave him a look that said, “Well, you’re not wrong.” She lifted her chin when he asked his question, debating as she reluctantly released her knife to cross her arms over her chest. He certainly made a point. Even if she would wake up in a hospital somewhere the moment she laid down, she could at least enjoy the reprieve from her life back home to its fullest extent.
	Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a quick answer, even though she had one ready, she looked him in the eye as she responded. “It’d probably be smart to sleep on it. No reason to rush a decision that’ll make or break me.” She returned her hands to the long pocket.