Azazuka puts her hand on Piripiri's, and then says something. And then something else. She's listening, even, it's just there's a slight distraction and that makes it hard to put meanings to words. Piripiri stares out to the city, head tilted just enough for the veil to hide her face, while she tamps down her feelings, swatting them out of the way like somebody encountering layer on layer of cobwebs, each one a distracting possibility that tantalizes and isn't. Useful. Now.

The end result of all of this, is that it takes a good twenty seconds of careful breathing and thought before Piripiri reconstructs sounds into words and words into concepts. Ah. Danger. She can talk about danger. If she chooses to seize at this topic as a drowning woman might a line cast to her to avoid thinking about [i]-don't think about it-[/i] things, or if she's disregarding the careful layers of what could be true and who could be a piece in the Great Game to again not think about... things, that's to be expected, under the situation, she's sure.

"Most of the time... most of the time when somebody's in danger, it's not at all pleasant, or like the stories. You tell the stories afterwards to make yourself feel better or impress pretty girls. You don't mention the days of shivering in your tent as you wait to find out if the fever will break after your wound turns infected, or if you'll be found by the next person to attempt a crossing of the pass at a later time of the year, when the snows are less hostile. The hours of waiting, not knowing if the wolves will rush again. Holding a rope taunt for two hours so that the sail won't break in a heavy wind is a lovely story, but nobody will brag about how they had to have their fingers peeled off the rope after the storm's passed, because they just can't let go."

Piripiri looks at her host, really looks at her, and pauses. Nobody here but them, it'll be fine... no. No inpropiety. She gestures along the back of one hand, leading up along the arm towards the elbow. "I've got a scar there the better part of a foot long, that I got doing something dangerous and stupid. The difference, the crucial difference, is I did that because the alternative was my family getting hurt. Anybody who chooses to face danger, with no reason but bravado, is a fool and a danger to themself and all about them. But everyone will have something they will face the world's end to save." A tiny smile at the end there, but an honest one, perhaps her first in this city.

Hm. The mask is a little too loose, perhaps. She'll sort her feelings and meditate until she feels in control again, after she's inside her rooms behind walls and guards. For now, deep breaths, and if something must compromise, make it something strategically unimportant.