Starglow Basin Re_jaded.

much is said. soto watches both as they speak in that hideous, unlyrical language.

he wavers between standing and sitting. standing shows initiative; sitting would come with its own subtle contextual clues.

sangre looks wildly uncomfortable -- and her comment comes out of field like a pinhook, making soto look incredulously at amazona.

old?

he shakes his head. amazona speaks again, the lilt of her words and furrow of her brow indicating a question.

back to sangre, almost helplessly were it not for the strangest blade of irritation lodging itself in his throat.

he's confused. the odd man out. there is something here he does not know and he can sense it; when he grapples for it, it disappears.

now sangre's words come with their own discomfitted twist. soto's eyes -- the right nearly entirely occluded -- turn back to amazona.

marry, no. acquire -- yes. she'd make a good commander, and excellent producer of future little amazonas. he wished to pontificate on this, but sangre's evident discomfort grates him to the point nino starts yapping again.

que me falta?