I'd say ask him, but neither of us is keen to get close enough to do so. Something changed, clearly. Perhaps their agreement has been broken in some way. Hok-Shinn seem the kind of people to shirk a deal when they think they can.

[ Chaotic drunks and bullies who try to get away with whatever they can.

He settles himself more comfortably, studying her curiously. ]

They call you the Huntress, but I assume you have your own name. Many call me the Black Prince, but mine is Wrathion. It was a name I chose for myself. My mother did not survive to award me one.

[ An exchange of names is fair, he thinks. If she's polite enough, he can impose the exchange on her by giving his own first. ]