"[color=FFE63D]No,[/color]" Quinn sighed, readjusting the strap of her patch. "[color=FFE63D]I was just a kid when I lost it, don't really know how.[/color]" Which, even if she didn't tell the whole truth, was true enough.

She broke off eye contact, letting her eye roam across the Parlay. The Helburke flag, the crest of the Tormonts, the massive trays of food on the Helburkan side. On the Runan side, the board members—who she was none to happy with—and then...

Dahlia looked so incredibly nervous. She hadn't eaten anything, Quinn could tell. She...Quinn breathed in heavily. It wouldn't be apparent to most, but she could tell: Dahlia was terrified. 

Terrified for her. 

Terrified [i]of[/i] her. Of her Savior. Of her weapon. And of what she'd do if—

[color=ec008c][i]Wonder what they’ll do once you’re dead, if, y’know, another one pops up.[/i][/color]

She sat up straight again, then turned her head back to Roaki like it weighed a hundred pounds. Her eye flashed, glinted like a chip of yellow ice. Her voice suddenly went hard and sharp as broken glass. "[color=FFE63D]I guess I'll never find out what they'll do.[/color]" She cut a piece of meat, brought it to her mouth, chewed, and swallowed, never once looking away. "[color=ffe63d]I don't intend to die anytime soon.[/color]"