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Whatever it was that had brought this rage that simmered within Kalika to a head, Whip was unsure. He looked to her, gaze flush with innocent confusion. Eagerly, he had done all she asked -- and as he would continue (as with all the sirens who presided over him). Whip pulled his head back into his shoulders submissively. He showed his teeth in an act of good faith and he ears fell flat agaisnt his head. His posture alone was answer enough. He did fear her. He feared most of the women here, but Kalika was the first to make him feel truly expendable.

Though he did not speak it, Whip was terrified. "I understand Kalika," he replied, looking upon her from his lowly slouch as she moved across his path. Even as a terror to behold, she was beautiful. However, Whip regarded her as a sailor would a coming storm; full of blind fury and uncertainty. He could not help but wonder is she was a storm that he would survive.