This was all Xi's fault, surely, because Mircea had always seemed so reasonable (if grouchy, but so was she) the entire time she had been here. Living in his little book store, babysitting kids and sometimes lecturing her on being too rough with them during defense lessons. "We are not surrendering, we are living." Honestly, she was kind of hoping they were going to kill each other off soon and then it wouldn't be a problem. By the looks of the news, it wouldn't be long yet. Jayati rolled her eyes at him, stepping around her recliner to give him the up-down with all scathing judgement before raising a single eyebrow, "Some of us require more than simply a warm body." That and incubation times, that sort of thing, but that just didn't ring quite as well, insult wise.
Bare feet padded quietly across the hardwood as she, well, not quite stormed up to him but it was a near thing. Looming a bit even on two legs, "Yes. I think you're bored. That you'll sit back with your papers and your books while we march off to fight your war." What was that phrase? Poor man goes to fight a rich man's war? How about the soldier goes to fight the philospher's war, shedding blood while he did not?