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Exiting the House of Chance, the black-tailed woman seats herself cross-legged near a previous night's fire and pulls her shirt off her shoulders. She puts her hand in the ashes, coming out with a mostly burned piece of wood. With it, she smears a horizontal line across her forehead, and a vertical one under her chin. She rubs the burned piece of wood between her hands, leaving each palm dark with ash.

She folds her hands across her chest and touches each of her bared shoulders, leaving a smudge of charcoal on each one, then rests them, palms up across her lap.

Her lips form silent phrases.

The pale woman walks the fenced yard of the House of Chance. At first she pays no mind to her roomate, but when the dark tailed woman begins marking herself with the ash, the pale woman pauses to watch her unusual actions.

The pale woman does not seem to understand the tailed woman's actions and keeps her distance possibly out of respect, or perhaps fear.

The woman's long ears twitch as the pale woman pauses. She lowers her head and looks at her hands, clenching her fingers for a moment.

"I thought..." She blinks and gives a heavy sigh, speaking without turning her head. "If I stopped moving...if I made a home, it would stop."

"I think it's actually worse now." Her fingers deftly flick coiling patterns across the pale skin of her face. "Too easy to be afraid, to be angry. Too easy to feel...everything." She crushes the burned piece of wood between her fingers. "Too welcoming, the call to retreat...to forget everything and to run away. To welcome being lost."

"And you, my silent companion..." She turns her head, slightly. "What do you hide from? What comfort do you find in your servitude and silence?"

*Fell walks out of the gate and up to the House of Chance. He passes the gate and into the court yard to notice the two ladies over at the fire. Which causes him to stop heading in to the main build and to go greet them. As he gets closer he does undo his tool bag, and his back pack resting on a spot near where he is to set. Once they are removed he set himself and with a smile he greets the two ladies form the House of Chance.*

"Greeting fair ones an how do you both do this day? I hope I am not buggering your fire trance? If so I shall take part and leave you two alone. I do not wish to make offense of you both."

She listens to the tailed woman's words. As she listens, her face remains emotionless an unchanging. Her eyes carefully watch the figure's motions, but never meet hers. The pale woman makes no acknowlegment to the words of the tailed woman, for at first it doesn't seem that the tailed woman would seem to be talking to anyone directly.

When the tailed woman speaks to the paled woman directly, she begins to find a reply but before she makes a sound, her attention turns to the newcommer and watches him take his place on the log.

She continues to stand silently before them a comfortable distance away.

With the conflict over, Dallid heads back out of the keep. Seeing activity by the fire pit, he approaches to see what may be going on.

The woman smiles slightly. "No trance. Just bringing myself to focus."

"It is wrong to focus my energy into anger. It is a senseless emotion without productivity or benefit. I can't defend Ingram or his people except that I know they have been very kind and helpful to me, and to others whom have needed aid. So perhaps I have an altered perception of things."

"The energies here are...troubled. A maelstrom just waiting for the moment to be taken advantage of and I have left myself too open to it." She sighs again, but her face is serious. "As long as they all stand so far apart and pretend at friendship and alliance, they are weak. I understand that trust does not come easy, but what came before must be left in the past, if these people are to survive here, or anywhere. Insults and arrogance also solve nothing."

"No fire, either. Just ashes. But that can be easily remedied." She goes to grab a few nearby logs. "And I find a fire goes a long way to giving comfort and welcome among others, yes?"

She shakes her head, a warm smile on her face as she feeds the wood into the firepit. "Strange customs, indeed..."

“And there, indeed, lies the source of much of the strife that surrounds us this day. ‘Strange customs’. Here on the steps of Caldonia are gathered a great many people from a great many cultures. Each carries their own perspectives on life, society, station, and morels. Perspectives often strongly upheld, and just as often conflicting with the perspectives of others. One person’s arrogance is another’s honor. One person’s crime is another’s tradition. These conflicts will never go away. They must be expected, and we must remain ever vigilant for them. They must be confronted and mediated as quickly as possible and to the best of our ability. A constant struggle – but preferable to the alternative.”

“And I would advise not to discount anger. It is a natural and necessary emotion. It can grant enhanced strength, endurance, and focus, and may make the difference between life and death. This, of course, comes at the cost of reason, and therefore can lead to regrettable acts if improperly employed. Thus does it become prudent to control anger, but not abolish it completely.”

"I hope you will forgive me if you mistook my statements at these cultural differences as disdain, I did not mean as such. It merely amuses me." The woman strikes a long match and lights the debris next to the wood, which catches quickly. "You speak with reason." She gives him a long look. "The philosophies that were impressed upon me are not so prevalent here, so I can only assume your perspective comes from much time spent in observation. They are well-stated." She returns to sit near the fire, a long poker stick in one hand.

"I find myself restless of late and my ability to hold a civil conversation has been strained for it. I have neglected my meditations. I will be more studious in the future."

She gives the pale woman another long look. "Will you not join us, Kami? I think Abaddon would not mind and I find your presence most welcome."

She turns back to Dallid. "I do not know Ingram well, I can only speak for what I have seen him do since I have come here. I keep hearing references to crimes he has committed, are you familiar with them?" She tilts her head. "I would like to be informed, on the perspective, if nothing else, although, as you have so eloquently stated 'One person’s crime is another’s tradition.'"

“Alas, no, I lack any direct experience with the acts he has been accused. Though I suspect there is much truth in those tales, and much bias.”

“My perspective is such that I believe Ingram and Atrum are actually very much alike. Both are willing to do whatever it takes to help their own – the fear and distrust stems from the uncertainty of whom exactly is included in ‘their own’.”

“Also these are people whom are prone to plan for every possible contingency – even such scenarios most of us would prefer not to consider, such as betrayal. Such contingency plans are kept well hidden. When one finds a neighbor has a catapult ranged in on one’s home, one tends to take hostile action against the neighbor, even if the neighbor hopes reason will never come to use that catapult. Thus are secrets maintained – the mere presence of which, of course, also sews distrust.”

“Ironically, trust and cooperation under such circumstances becomes greatest when either can assure the other’s total annihilation. Then one can deal with the other openly in the security that the other dare not commit any act of betrayal.”

Upon the request, the pale woman comes forward and takes her place alongside the tailed woman, but remains standing and slightly behind. She does not seem to take interest in the current conversation, as her gaze is fixed somewhere among the growing flames.

"I will say I have seen Ingram calm a great deal in the past moon, and not seek out arguments as much as I saw when I first met him. I think he feels that his actions prove themselves, and if others cannot agree with that, then he cannot, nor will-not, change their minds." She raises her eyebrows. "Then he builds, and creates and puts his energy into that, which I must declare a much better testament to his personality than his diplomacy." She smiles."

"The wounded prides of many people are simply adding to the chaos and anger. Now is not the time for anger. As you say, it has a place, but now is the time that reason matters more. And whatever may have happened before, this is not 'Haven."

"I indeed suspect you may be correct in declaring the source of their dissension, although I am not so well acquainted with Atrum." She laughs, heartily.

"Indeed. Anger directed at allies is a waste of time and energy. It weakens us all. Yet there it is, nonetheless. How might it be addressed? On this question, I have often meditated. I have pursued the path of knowledge - encouraged rivals to know one another better in the hopes their fears and suspicions might be diminished. But perhaps other methods may be more effective. Confrontation, for instance, or distraction."

"Confrontation has been tried, or so I have heard tell. And that has done little but cause further anxiety." The woman's mouth turns up at the sides. "Distraction..." She chuckles. "Personally, I have a vested interest in the art of distraction, but employing it is tricky. Offer too little and there is suspicion of manipulation. Offer too much and the problem remains at the distraction's conclusion, or you have new problems."

The woman brushes the edge of Kami's robe with the clean back of her hand softly. "Pretty things are distractions...so are games, challenges, riddles, food, drink and entertainments." She says. "One would think the challenge of survival and sustenance would be distraction enough to leave little room for bickering."

*Atrum chuckles as he walks by*
You obviously don't know much of me if you think confrontation has been tried.