If I were, who would be the pupil, and who the teacher? [Wry, almost like a joke. She's probably seen the assignments he's left for 'their' Abigail in her cabin by now. But at the same time, in the arena, she was trying to give him, or rather who she thought he was, advice.
His voice is as cool as his expression, eyes hard but giving away nothing. He watches her with far too much scrutiny to be disaffected, however.
He comes closer, all the way until he's standing in front of the bars. And then he produces what he had hidden - a bowl full of grapes. Holding it by the edge with one hand he tilts the front down enough so even seated she can see the contents.]
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His voice is as cool as his expression, eyes hard but giving away nothing. He watches her with far too much scrutiny to be disaffected, however.
He comes closer, all the way until he's standing in front of the bars. And then he produces what he had hidden - a bowl full of grapes. Holding it by the edge with one hand he tilts the front down enough so even seated she can see the contents.]