Tam remained passive, his arms crossed over his chest, as Cicero talked to the elven girl. If he had wanted to rough the kid up, he would have done so himself. In fact, as the little girl yelped, Tam's hands clenched around his upper arms. But he could and would not interrupt Cicero. He could not show any weakness, and neither did he want to anger her. It was just a little dirty elven girl, why did he even care? He knew very well the answer to that question, but once again he pushed the memories of his wife and children from his mind. They had no part in this, this was his other life.
Could it be called living?
The thought came from nowhere, swirling around in his mind like a leaf falling from a tree in autumn. But it made him uncomfortable, and he tried pushing it away. All men had things they regretted, was it not so? All men had things they would do differently would they have gotten a second chance. But there were no second chances, and Tam knew this with certainty as he looked at Cicero and then the elf girl as she escaped through the door. This was what he had chosen. The girl gone, the woman turned to him again, and once again he was reduced to staring. The strength in her was what appealed to him, drew him in. But yet he could she the hardness in her eyes, the eyes of a woman set on making her way towards the top in a band of slavers. For a moment the blue fire in his eyes flickered at her, before dying again. 'I hope you know what you’re doing.' No. He did not. And he was aware that he didn't. But he had chosen this life. There was nothing else left. When he spoke, his voice was flat, devoid of emotion, just as empty as his eyes. "Are you done? We need to be ready."