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Zuberi felt energy running through his body. He was a man that always went after what he wanted no matter the circumstances. What people thought or things he supposedly should do just didn't matter to him. Why should it? None of them matter. And having that attitude always worked for him, at least until now.

L'lhynd had run away.

It was still hard for Zuberi to comprehend that. He had run away from him. Why? He turned it over his head so many time, but he just didn't understand. L'lhynd was his, had been his since a child. Why would he leave? He hadn't went away when the Matori were first freed, so why now? Sure there hadn't been many opportunities before, but that didn't matter. L'lhynd was his.

He frowned at the thought, not much paying attention as he walked down the road, not until something caught his eye. A girl. Before he realized what he was doing, he grabbed the girls's wrist, pulling her toward him.

The woman was struggling against him and people were starting to look over in their direction. Zuberi paid none of it any attention. Instead he was focused on the woman's eyes. They weren't exactly like his, but they were close. Maybe some Obans wouldn't have noticed it, but Zuberi had spent too much time studying his Matori servant,memorizing every aspect of what he considered to be his, to not notice.

"Your eyes aren't that of an Oban's," he said, finally releasing his grip on the girl's wrist. "What are you?"

It never occurred to Zuberi that what his words might cause trouble for the girl, especially in this crowd, nor did he care. He was too intent on confirming what he knew. This girl who looked like an Oban, had Matori eye.

Zuberi nodded slowly. That explained it then, why her eyes were like L'lhynd. "Your eyes...they're nice," he said the words slowly, as if he was trying to find the best way to describe it, but was still unsatisfied with the results. He frowned a little, thinking about it. Nice hadn't been the word, he wanted. Something else...

His attention was pulled away at the sight of the girl rubbing her wrist. he stared for a moment, playing back the events that had happened. It was a habit of his, to act on his instinct without question. A bad habit if you asked his parents, but Zuberi had never cared to change and for the most part he rarely regretted it, but looking at the girl now, rubbing her wrist, he felt just a hint of guilt.

"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He hadn't even realized he had been so rough, but then again he often didn't bother to hold back his strength There were a lot of things he didn't bother with though...

"Yes," he answered. "They look just like his." Zuberi didn't bother elaborating on who he was referring to. After L'lhynd had run away he had gotten more tight-lip about talking about him as if speaking about him would make him lose pieces of what he had left. Then again, Zuberi rarely liked sharing things that were his, even of the his in this occasion had run away in a bid for freedom.

"I have never seen eyes like your on an Oban. I don't have many interactions with..." He searched for the word. Mutts, that was what the other noble Oban his age called them; halfies his mother called them, usually she would say it with a high-pitched laugh like she came across something that she found amusing and disturbing. His father simply called them half-breeds. None of those words seemed to match the girl in front of him. "People with mixed blood." It was a mouthful and Zuberi would have preferred to find a term that fit better, but he was never good with words. He preferred action whenever possible.

"Have you been to Matori before?" he asked, pushing away his own thoughts on the matter to focus on something more important.

"I need to go there," he answered simply and then stared at her thoughtfully. There was a lot he didn't know about Matori, never had been there before. He suppose he could ask a Matori, but most of them were too frightened to talk to him or too suspicious. The Obans who went there were usually bias and could only give him information coddled in extravagance, something Zuberi planned to leave behind for the journey he was planning.

Even though his parents were against the trip, if they knew when he was planning to lead, the would insist on a caravan and a host of other things that would simply get in his way. No, what he needed was information, something this girl could probably provide for him. Perhaps she would be able to tell him about Matori from both sides.

"Have lunch with me," Zuberi said, his request coming out more like a demand than he meant.

Zuberi frowned. Why? He didn't like being questioned about his actions. So he simply didn't answer. His reasons for going to Matori were his own. Instead his attention shifted to her next question. He struggled with that. She was not his servant or one of the Obans that often did as he demanded simply because he wanted it. He turned that over in his head, forcing himself to come to terms with that.

This woman met his gaze with her own, even though it was clear that he had the brute force to do what he wanted and the station for his actions to be looked passed. Yet, she didn't seem afraid. Curious. Zuberi didn't try to intimidate people most of the time, it naturally shown in his presence, but he had gotten so use to it that it felt strange to meet someone whose reaction was different.

He mentally pieced together the words to answer her. "I'm asking," he said.

Zuberi jerked a little in surprise as the girl hooked her arm with his. He had girls be forward with him, but never so friendly like this. Usually it was more a flirtatious thing, and though he suppose she could be flirting, with the way the conversation had been going he didn't think so. He frowned a little. People were so difficult to figure out sometimes.

Still she had accept his request, so that was something. That thought made him relax just a little but, though there was still an underlying tension going through him. He wasn't used to touching someone outside of a fight or bedroom. So for this girl, a stranger, to touch him so casually was...different. He didn't pull away though. It wasn't uncomfortable.

"What's your name?" He asked gruffly.