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Suluksati waited until the Guard captain was gone before she began to natter at her blood-clumped feathers with her teeth. “Hmm.” she mumbled through the mouthful of dirty feathers, “A reward.” she wasn't sure how she felt about such a thing, but she also didn't see why – if the villagers insisted – it should not be taken.

Feeling cramped, she shifted back. “What do you think the reward will be, Esmeralda?” she asked, rubbing her arm with a hand. “And..” her voice became slightly plaintive, “When do you think that bath will be... available?” her skin cried out for hot water and that magescian invention called soap that turned preening into a marvelously easy – if not particularly tasty – venture. She felt filthy and sticky and gross. “I should like one soon.”

Delicately, thankful for her Khehorian form, Suluksati slipped into the water, shivering as it's liquid warmth settled into her feathers, onto her dry skin, and over still-healing wounds and long-healed scars. Though her skin – unusused to watery contact – shrunk away from it's touch at first, Suluksati became comfortable quickly and sank into it, the blood from her feathers staining it red even as she closed her eyes and sighed...

“Ahhh...” she murmured, taking a moment to let herself unwind, before she began to diligently groom herself. “I don't know...” she said, in answer to Esme's question, “I've never gotten a reward before...” she sighed, “And I raised my own claws against my sister. I deserve no reward for that.”

“Mmm...” Suluksati rumbled, “It's... mmmm It's good.” she sank into it, “Thank you for providing it.” she sighed, looking up at the ceiling... it was odd to be so enclosed, so sheltered and pampered. “I was not in my right mind...” she murmured, “And neither was she. We were, both of us, drawn to bloodshed by the Blood moon...” she growled, stirring in the water, “That is why now. But why here? No...” she thought back to the last time she had seen Mahrani. They had parted harshly, on angry terms, a very long time ago.

“It is not close to the tribe's lands.” said Suluksati, her nose and mouth just above the water as she let the water seep into the stained feathers at her eyes. She lifted herself back out and shook her head, letting the water wick from her feathers. Realizing what she had just done, she looked at Emeralda apologetically, trying to see if she had accidentally stained Esme's clothing. “I have not been away so long that I do not know my own tribe's lands.” she smoothed her crest back, the bright greens of it reappearing from the grime, “No...” she murmured, her yellow eyes distant, “They were here for some other reason, and I do not know it...”

“How?” protested Suluksati, “I have not seen them in... in a long time.” Years? Decades? It felt like a lifetime away. “My own kind thinks I am a madwoman.” she said bitterly, “Few listen to me, and I am sure that my kinsmen will not. Especially them.”

She growled, “They are too full of their own brilliance to see the truth.” With some reluctance, she left the bath, taking up a drying cloth and beginning the long process of drying and fluffing her feathers. She was nude, of course, and she felt no special feelings about it. She had hatched nude, she had lived nude, and she did not see why there would be a fuss, at all, about being nude in either form. That didn't mean she couldn't look nice, however.

“No, they will not listen to me.” she said, going over her face and crest with care, “Maybe you. They might listen to you.” she said, “No.” she rescinded, almost wistfully, “Never you mind that. They would kill you too...” she sighed. “And I suppose they are no longer really my kin anymore. None sought me when I left. I was an embarrassment to them...”