the skin of a predator

Isla take your medicine Nodding an absent thanks as he opens the door for her, Isla's gaze is still on Sunjata's face as they head out of the tanner's and back into the shadowy streets. She can see it in him, she thinks - the way leadership would fall on his shoulders like a well fitting cloak, instead of smothering her the way it does. "In your blood?" she echoes, before smiling and nodding again. "I think you might be right, actually." She knows more about Sunjata's past than she's given herself credit, and he does seem built for this. "Ah, Safrin and her ultimatums," Isla murmurs, her brows furrowing. "I'm sorry that you had to give it up. I'd give this to you if I thought you would take it." And it's a bald admission, but a true one nonetheless. "You wouldn't be alone, at least. I would happily take a role on the council with Varus and Wessex. I just... it sounds terrible, but I don't think I would trust myself to make the best choice if something happened. Not if Remi was involved." Even if he doesn't remember her. Even if he'd kill her without even thinking about it.