Ridahne snorted, but didn't reply to Mrixe. What he didn't understand was that if they were there to keep an eye on her, then it was needless babysitting and an insult to her character that they didn't trust her in their city. And if they were there solely to keep guard over Darin, then it implied some measure of distrust of how Ridahne could do her job. A guide around the city to see the sights was one thing, but a night guard? It made it clear to Ridahne that the leadership of Lihaelen neither trusted her to keep the peace, nor did they trust her to protect Darin. She bristled at the thought. She expected as much in her home country where she'd committed terrible sins that could not easily be forgiven. But here? Was there nowhere in Astra where she could gain the trust of its people? In human lands, she was at best an intimidating, otherworldly figure to be avoided. In elvish lands, she was a criminal. She silently gritted her teeth and took a long, slow breath.

[I]You knew this would happen when you did it. You always knew you could never find solace.[/I]

Darin suddenly sprang up, uttered some quick apology and bolted out of the room. Caught off guard by the suddenness of it, Ridahne made a move to follow but Mrixe stopped her. The look that she turned on to the soldier was venomous, like a cobra one sudden movement away from striking. If Ridahne cut an imposing figure before, it was amplified tenfold now that the full force of her ire was focused on him. She was a tempest held dangerously still. With all the charm of a growling wolf, she gave him a dangerous look that said [I]"How dare you interfere in our business?"[/I] And then he had the audacity to follow after her instead, though he came back inside after only a moment. 

"Yes. Very much so." Was her cold answer to Mrixe's question, before she pushed the bench she was seated on back with enough force to make the legs groan against the wood floor and stalked upstairs. 

Angry didn't begin to cover what she felt. Anger at the Council, anger at Mrixe, and it took a little longer for her to identify it, but anger at Darin. She understood what the human girl was going through to a degree, with the weight of Astra on her shoulders. And she'd always done what she could to help her. But it was Ridahne's turn to need her. And when that moment had come, Darin abandoned her. A sick, gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal churned inside of her, shape-shifting into hurt and sadness. Ridahne had always been used as a tool, as a pawn in some higher power's game to be cast aside at the users convenience. Darin's sudden disappearance tapped on old wounds not yet healed, and it hurt all the more for the trust she'd laid in Darin. Was she nothing more than a tool? 

"No," she said out loud through gritted teeth. She was Ridahne Torzinei, Daughter of the Night Sky, Sol-Slayer, Traitor, Seed-Chained. Guardian. And she would make sure the world knew it, alone if need be. Ridahne took a breath, knelt on the floor in front of where she'd propped her small mirror up onto a chair, picked up her bone needle and said with solemn determination, "[I]Ai jane'ta jane'ta.[/I] What's done is done."

--

It took hours for her to finish. She was very proud of her work, though she would not really see how well she'd done until the swelling receded a bit. Her face was a puffy mess all over, but especially on the left side where she'd added the fresh black ink. The intense pain of the procedure had done a lot to dull her own anger, though she wasn't exactly in a good mood when she finished. She'd slathered the area with her special balm and stuck clean white bandages onto it that partly obstructed one eye. If she looked fearsome in her prime, she looked even more so like this, like she'd just fought her way through a hundred soldiers that had all tried to hit her in the face. She did her best to extinguish the lights, crawl into bed and sleep, but the pain and throbbing kept her awake and prevented her from falling into anything more than a hazy waking state of semi-rest.