Without taking her eyes off the startled newcomer across the fire, the jerky rises to her mouth, where a chunk is torn free by her teeth and folded it against her inner cheek and tongue. Stale meat juice fills her mouth, bits of cotton and dirt adding to the flavor.
"I admit," she swallows the dry bite of jerky, compliments of one of the many corpses scattered around the shamble of the campfire shes squatting at, and adds "that this is a really bad look." The understatement of the century. Dead men do tell tales and these poor bastards were screaming about the slaughter, complaining about their overturned carts and ruined goods, their faces frozen in horror and scorn, caked in mud and their own blood. And what excuse did this haggard, grimey, bloody thing passing off as a woman have to say in her defence?
"But they deserved it."
Well, to be quite truthful, a full out massacre wasn't exactly what Nix had expected to find here, but it was close. The faint metallic scent in the air and the recent, if short, sounds of an attack that had been heard, hinting that something of lesser fortune had befallen these strangers. Though he had assumed something along the lines of a stray owlbear or wandering pack of wolves would be the culprits, not some strangely calm woman devouring the dried rations of the fallen.
Ah, he was staring, not that one could tell behind the decorated porcelain mask he wore. "You needn't worry about my judgement madam, so long as you are free to do...as you wish, so too am I." A surprisingly debonair and smooth voice would echo forth from behind the mask, two fully covered arms being revealed from beneath his cloak as he took a very lazy bow-like gesture in greeting. A small glimpse of the rapier on his hip being shown as his cloak opens.
"I trust you have no intentions of devouring or hauling away everything here, do you? Perhaps you'd have no qualm with one such as I searching for anything of use among the fallen?" A rather fancy way of asking to loot the remains in search of something.
