Bella's lips press tight together as she contemplates Mynx's words in silence. Her eyes, set hard as gemstones, watch that face with unblinking wariness. She watches the line of her... companion's jaw, looking for the quivering that suggests weakness, or that slight twitch of her lips she gets when she's trying to hide a punchline. That little blink she suddenly develops when she's struggling with a character. 

But there's nothing. Nothing but strength and a strange sort of softness that fills Bella with a sense of hope that feels too good to be real. So good it might hurt her. She doesn't dare latch onto it; no smile deeper than a smirk crosses her face. Her eyes never lose that sharpness. Until she closes them. Bella's body settles deeper into Mynx's embrace, and for a small moment she lets her world shrink to just the sounds, smells, and warmth of the only person anywhere who can be... no. Who understands.

"Ha, remember when she was training for the Olympics? She got so sucked into wrestling and racing she'd forget what food was. We had to say everything three times before she realized it meant anything. She's always been such a..."

She lets the thought melt into a chuckle, and the chuckle build into bright and melodious laughter of the sort that hadn't escaped her mouth since before the faithful day when she'd laid eyes on the streets of Tellus beyond the world of the palace. It's the kind of sound that makes a person think her voice was made for singing before anything else. Sweet enough to let it serve as an offering to Hera. For a moment the memory is more refreshing, more revitalizing than all the water that was laid out to help her back on her feet. 

And then she sighs and opens her eyes, and everything becomes sharpness and hard edges again. 

"What we need," she says, "Is to get rid of the distractions. We won't let her think she's playing the hero, we'll cut her off, keep her away from her merry band of morons. Kill them, catch them, chase them off, I don't care. I only need her. Once I've got her to myself... then she'll see. She has to."