"I see," Varis said as he glanced over to the drow, letting a long pause of silence between them as he continued to stare at the bright dots in the sky. He didn't exactly feel empathy for the drow and her desires, seeing as how assassins weren't the ones to really make friends, and if one did make a friend, it would usually just be to further the goals of the assassin himself -- which was the exact thing Varis was doing right now.
"I don't know what it's like to have friends," Varis began, his pompous tone seemingly gone for now. "I've... always been on the move, I suppose," He chose his words carefully, trying to hide the fact that his moral compass pointed in the direction of, "wicked" by being a murderer for hire. "But, if it's friends you're looking for, you can find them here..."
"... Behind you, in the wagon, of course." Varis stated as an afterthought, not wanting to really become "friends" with this drow. Even if he did become friends with the drow -- or any one of his other allies -- he wouldn't be able to tell. Due to his "father," he never had time to make friends as a child.