#anywhere

She sets her jaw, trying to fend off a tremble in her lip.

He leans back, and the shadows seem to sink back with him a bit. "Hey. I'm not tryin' to be an ass. And I'm not saying you're good. Or bad. Or trying to convince you to be anything. Hell - I'm not good, but they still let me around, kinda, most of the time anyways. I'm just saying..."

An exhale, as he thinks a moment, then continues. "You've got a chance, here, to be whatever it is you -want- to be - whatever you want Dagmar to be. Don't let someone else write the story for you and put you in a box. Want to be bad? Be the baddest badass you can be. You could be Deadpool with a Glaive. Want to be good? Sure, just try not to be as much of a Stick-up-the-ass as Cap. But this is your story. Just because someone saw the prequel doesn't mean they know what's happening next, unless you sit back and let it play around you."

"Fuck. I should just shut up, right?" He shakes his head.

"No, it's fine. Whatever."

"I'm not just talkin' out of my ass though. And 'kindness of my heart'. I want to know what's behind this. It's got me hooked. And if you get killed, then I have to find someone else to feed the cat." He stands stretching. "And to be my alibi when I say I was out with a friend.'" He offers a hand to Dagmar, as though to help her up. As though he -could, but it's a gesture.

She rubs her upper arms. "She'd get over it." A hesitation, but she takes the hand.

"Naw. Wimmen hold grudges." A smirk, and he steps back to help pull her up - a breeze pushing a boulder up a hill.

The boulder rumbles and rises.

A glance at the door. "They seem to be on the up-n-up, those two. As far as us slugs trust anyone, other than ourselves and our nasty little secrets. If I needed someone at my back strong, to depend on, there are worse choices." A small, humorless smile. "Not sure they trust me, but I probably wouldn't either - so they're smarter than the average bear, too."
Pause. "And the Hearth laid out food I can eat. I ain't seen other slugs around, so that's... well." A shrug.

"If he Oathed, he'd be stuck.."

A thoughtful look, and he remarks, "Then don't oath. Make him put his money where his mouth is. If he can put up with you for a while, then see where it's at. Then if he decides he hates being tied down, you're free. I don't much like the idea of being fate-tied to anything else, and Da'an doesn't even punish me extra like you all." A nod. "You gotta admit, it's a lot to offer on short notice. If he were a boggan, I get it - they gotta help people who need it. But if it were me? Don't pass up a gift horse, but also watch out in case it ends up being a Kelpy."

"He hasn't said he would oath. But when it goes bad... when he realizes what he's missing out on, how hard I am...I want... I wish... but you wanna talk stupid fairy tales?"

"And this, too? On top of everything? It's like a cherry on a shit sundae."

"Yeah, it ain't fair." A shake of his head. No pity there, just stating the fact. He looks like he wants to say something else, but then just glances at the door. "Want to see if there's any of that food left? If Lovey eats all that ham, she's gonna hork it into a shoe later. Probably one of my stepmom's, and then it's MY problem. ...Or we can raid the fridge in here."

"I know. I know it's.... I know better. Don't you ever wish you didn't know better? That you could just pretend like maybe this time, it'd... it'd just be different?"

"I guess. I guess it's stupid. There's old food out that room, though."

"Yeah. I know." He hesitates, as if to go on, but then just nods. "There's new food, too. I'm sure the Browns' make dinner, but they probably don't realize you have an extra 10 feet of appetite to fill. If the lodge is offering it, it's free pickings."

"Yeah... they just give it away..."

"Nothing is free - even hospitality. They make you feel welcome, and next time the shit hits the fan, they can call in a favor." He doesn't seem upset by this, though, more that it's the way of the world.

"Yeah, don't have to tell me that."

"As freeholds go, this one isn't half bad. I haven't been to a fancy elf court, and from what I heard, I don't want to. Bow and scrape and Sirs and Your Excellencies. Just because you're born pretty." He looks about to spit on the floor, but just makes a face instead. "They even got spells to make you obey them if you don't feel like it. So this ain't bad by far."

"Dude - seriously? That's fucked up."

She looks at the door. "I don't see what he gets. You know? Nothing's free."

"It comes with the knights and royalty and dragons. Nobility. Though... I heard there's a Sluagh countess now. I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that one - I still think it's some sort of hoax." He follows her gaze to the door. "Me either. I mean, as girls go, you're not bad. But I don't get wanting to just up and take on someone you just met. I don't even hardly understand it from... from boggans." A shake of his head.

"Yeah. I think it's.... the idea, maybe. Duty. But I don't think that's gonna mean the same, in reality."

He gives her a sideways glance. A hesitation. "Ann Marie - I don't know if you met her. My stepmom. I met her after I chrysalized, before I moved here. I was still a fledge. And I lived with my dad, and he's just a muggle." There's a delay, hair falling over his expression, as he wavers on continuing. "I still don't know why she showed up. If she actually likes him, or it's just her Boggan calling, that makes her think she needs to take care of someone. But she even married him, and tries to act like she's my mother. And hell if I know why she'd want to be responsible for a slug, and one that's not even very good at BEING a slug."

He flicks a glance back up at her, and adds. "I'm not saying it's the same. Or looking for pity. But... I think I get your drift, a bit."