"I, for one, certainly don't give a fuck about 'that stupid fucking slaver'," Aysel muttered as she scurried after him, though she was still nervous about that beast. It would be just great to escape slavery only to walk right into the jaws of something worse.
But Quinlan, at least, seemed capable of handling himself. He'd killed the thing! He'd somehow killed Jessen, without even getting near him! His blood seemed to be the source, which seemed fairly useful to her, since any special tools you needed to work with were literally right inside your veins. Quite unlike her skill, which required tools and materials and artistic talent and a source.
Keeping her voice quiet, she spoke without looking at him, more concerned about studying their surroundings for danger. "I learned by accident," she said. "I'm an artist, you see. And one day I just...did it. I was painting some flowers that don't exist, at least not that I've ever seen, and thinking how wonderful it would be if they were real. And then...suddenly they were. That is, they were totally fake, but the canvas I had painted them on just changed, and before I knew it, I had canvas flowers. Real looking ones."
She gave a little shrug. "I started experimenting after that. I'm still not quite sure of everything I can do." There was a pause, and she looked at him. "What about you? With your, you know...your blood thing."