Otatso Wetlands sandhill

If he were inclined to think of minds as things that could be lost, he might've thought the same as Tybault. The he was going crazy, offering up his supper like this instead of going for the throat. But he was sick of fighting, and he had never been one to let his mind run away from him. He was possessive even of his thoughts, and each one became part of him in a way that made this new development feel natural.

He gave food to strangers, now. Of course he did.

"Sure," he replied, still low and still easy. He wanted everything to be easy. Everything to be mellow. As long as he kept his voice even, he could keep his teeth behind his lips. As long as he kept his teeth behind his lips, he could avoid the pain and upheaval of violence.

"Y'know, you've got the brightest eyes I ever seen," he commented, because he'd thought it, and now it was part of him. His tone gave no hint as to how he meant for the words to be taken. "You ever seen a gold ring before?"