Watching the young man as he spoke, Sybil only listened out of courtesy when she'd rather be doing anything else.  On occasion her mind drifted back towards the scene in the city—to her mother's corpse on the pyre and the crowd jeering for her death.  The snap of his fingers bringing her back, her face creased as the frown on her face deepened.  “They're looking for you too,” she pointed out.  She hadn't been the only one who'd escaped that was slated to die that day.  The empire may not stop hunting her, she may never be safe again, but she doubted he would be either for the role he'd played in her escape.  

There was no emotion on her face as he proceeded to give her advice.  Sybil had always thought the stories her mother had told her before this point were to scare her into being agreeable—paranoia among their kind to purposely distance themselves from the humans and the elves.  Seeing that those beliefs had been wrong, that the people of the kingdom truly hated them for their abilities, was a bitter piece of information for her to swallow.  Perhaps her mother had always been right and there was really no room in this world for a kind malignant.  

Even so, she would not [i]work in the kitchens[/i].  The girl may not have been anywhere close to royalty or even a part of the aristocracy, but she was proud nonetheless.  She'd been given a gift by the gods and that gift wasn't meant to be hidden away in the kitchens.  Her mother would have been disappointed in her.  Now that the woman was gone, she felt more of a need than ever to live up to her expectations.

Dalious may have been ready to go, but his horse appeared to have other plans.  A small smile on her face when the creature bucked him off, she held out her hand and even stood as the animal clomped in her direction.  “There, there,” she cooed as she petted his nose.  The girl wasn't surprised.  Most animals tended to have a fondness for the malignant, exceptions including the wretched cursed creatures sent by the empire to hunt her kind down to extinction.  Her eyes glanced up at Dalious, arching an eyebrow at his sudden change of heart.  “How kind of you.”  Her words were flat, but if she had any strength to convey any emotion at this point it would have been sarcasm.  He wasn't offering to accompany her out of the goodness of his heart, but out of the contrariness of his horse.  

Gaze sweeping over the clearing again, she caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye.  Reaching out with a hand towards the direction to catch whatever it was before it was gone, she dragged  a small rabbit back into the clearing with an invisible force.  With a flick of her wrist, she closed her hand into a tight fist resulting in a sickening crack of the bunny's bones filling the clearing.  She crossed her arms in front of her, staring down at the unmoving animal, body twisted in ghastly abnormalities.  Glancing back up at Dalious, Sybil motioned towards the body with a nonchalant wave of her hand.  “Dinner,” was all she said.