Seeing as the elf wasn't about to go all gun-ho on her, Yuni dropped back into her shadow to return to her spot on the bed. After the first pass, she was damp. After the second pass, she was dry. A bright grin cracked on the girl's face, her tail swaying a bit as she listened. Before she had a reply, the Nekojin coughed into her wrist and swallowed whatever came up.
"Sounds a lot like m'Okaa's place... Ya got no idea how many armies came to it, jus' 'cause we all different." Yuni said, nodding a bit. "Jus' as ya should, rightfully so. And that is a good point... There was a couple times where I get shoved out 'o a battle... Good times."
"Though, when ya think 'bout it, the other side is always the bad guy." Yuni was assuming her more comical self, giggling at a few memories that sprang forth and at what she said. Then Saria asked about the Duke, and the girl got herself comfy on the bed.
"Well! First, mind that this is in a completely different realm on th'other side 'o the map." She started, thoughtfully rubbing her chin. "Lessee 'ere... Duke Rasmeth Paulamer the Third. Cute guy, even with the ugly scar on his face. He and I trade often, and he likes all the little doo-dads I make... They got somethin' like a Pope-King o'er there, and when Razzy throttled an invadin' army-- with my little doo-dads, mind-- he got an honor from that Pope-King thing as a great defender of the land." Yuni placed the empty glass on the space next to her, so the hand that wasn't supporting her face could gesticulate.
"The people in the capital threw this festive thingthing, with parades, a big market, and a feast. I came with 'im as a cute and fuzzy thing that wouldn't draw suspicion, since he told me his friends told 'im that somethin' was gonna go down during the award ceremony." She paused, scratching the back of her head as an itch came up. "Sure 'nough, there was, and I pop out of my cute and fuzziness, take the hit, blow the guy's head off, and portaled outta there like a bat outta hell." Yuni shrugged some. "They'll see it as some act of their gods, and say that Razzy is some chosen bein'. No one should be messin' with him any time soon."
Stykes, the good man, had remembered her soda. He came in just as she was finishing up her story, and she gave him a big grin. Gratefully, she took the can and popped the tab. "Aw, t'anks, Mr. Stykes! But a tad late. I like tellin' stories. 'Sides, Miss Saria ain't gonna smell much friendlier 'less she hears what she needs."