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[center][h1][color=92278f]Something of Peculiar Beauty[/color][/h1][/center]
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[indent]There came a time in everyone’s life when they encountered something… enriching, and no matter how long someone searched or how much pain they endured, there is always that faint, dwindling spark of hope lingering in the dark recesses of their mind. For a long time, Devlin had considered that special something to be Mada, the one that hoisted her from the ruins of devastation, the one that kept her safe for years, the one that reformed her from the traumatised mess of a girl she once knew. Yet regardless of the majestic fortitude of Mada, he wasn’t any match for the stirring graces that derived from the small, selfless act of another… tortured human soul.  

…She was getting very little from listening in on the chat taking place in various corners of the room, and was just about to receive her first taste from the contents of her bottle when benevolence touched down on the table before her. Her first instinct was ire, that old foreboding darkness, it felt like a ravenous swelling of flames within her chest, pumped out from her heart in a spell of a thousand needles that pierced her flesh – It would have no doubt been seen by the perfect stranger as a red flush of rage painting the scowl of her face, while he took the liberty of making himself at home in a chair at her table. Her unprovocative view of the wall was now gone, replaced by the… farcical mimes of a mute.

The tortured soul….

Mada was a telepath, and although he could speak, he rarely did unless he needed to; mostly communicating through thought or otherwise simple gestures of his own. Not only did Mada’s lack of spoken words make Devlin accustomed to various styles of body language, it also taught her the skills of less than common observation. Well, perhaps it would have been obvious to anyone, but she already knew the porridge was for her before this stranger gestured his intent - but regardless of that - the somehow pitiful display of the young man before her managed to wrestle her beast to assent. 

She could have never expected this. The ire within quickly subsided in the face of this implausible outcome, yet her glower may have lingered in its absence while she watched him quietly, not so much as even willing a peep while he silently designed his announcements.  

It was something of peculiar beauty, and for the moment, at least, she’d been distracted from her troubles. The possibility of humiliation hadn’t entered his mind, or maybe it just didn’t matter to him. This was his sacrifice - not one of money or charity; whether he could help her or not was beside the point, it was the purity of his intention that plucked at the crust of her heart. The vulnerability of kindness. This was his handle upon the evils in this world. This was his strength… and it made his effort perfect. 

She was quick to discover the man’s strength, yes, but she was nobody’s fool. His strength could have been anybody’s weakness, and it was possible she was about to be swindled by a cunning hustler. 

As the young man sat there in continued silence awaiting a response from Devlin, her expression was now absent, void of any trace of emotion at all. She scarcely regarded the porridge and bread with a shift of her eyes, released the bottle from her grip, then eased back in her chair. Lifting one hand slowly, she drew back the hood from her head and leaned her body to one side, her eyes piercing his with an analytical stare. 

“I don’t think you can help me, and what I seek could very well kill me. It’s best I keep no friends.” She said, and glanced at the warm bowl of food once again. “I thank you for the food.” She added, then looked over her shoulder at the barkeep before returning her eyes to his. The smallest trace of a grin was now present. “He only offered me stew. It tasted like… shit.” Her nostrils lightly flared while she reached out with one hand and dragged the bowl of porridge closer to the edge of the table. “I don’t know what he told you, stranger, but I have no more to give. So if that’s what you’re here for then… you best be on your way.” 

Devlin was by no means sure that her assumption held any substance, and honestly she was hoping it didn’t. He was one of the more intriguing individuals she had met and she didn’t want to spoil the prospect of learning more about him. It wasn’t very often she could say that about someone, and for this reason she refrained from hostility towards him. Hopefully she wouldn’t cause offense by throwing his integrity into question. 

She was still now, eyes fixed on his, holding the slightest of speculative grins while awaiting his response.[/indent]